The Winchester's Fate
by bethanyyerinn
Summary: A Destiel. Dean and Sam are living normal, non-supernatural lives (including romance and drama), but it seems the Winchester boys are destined to be Hunters and their lives don't stay normal for long. High School AU. Ships: Destiel (primary) and Sam/Madison and Sam/Jessica.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**High School AU. Specific changes to plot: 1) It's set in the present, even though Sam and Dean were actually teenagers in the late nineties 2) Sam and Dean are two and a half years apart, but Dean got held back and Sam skipped a grade to make them both 11****th**** graders. 3) Mary died in the fire caused by Azazel, but John didn't start hunting because of it, he just held the secret of his wife's death with him, telling no one. 4) After the fire, they went to stay with John's cousin in California until they found somewhere else to live, but ended up staying in California in the end. 5) Madison Owens is not a werewolf.**

**Also, sections in italics are flashbacks.**

**Rated T for a lot of severe language and some sexual references.**

* * *

Dean Winchester woke up to his radio alarm, which this morning decided to play a song by Lady Gaga.

"Are you fucking serious?" he muttered, slamming his hand down on the snooze. _Why did I even set my alarm anyway?_ he wondered. He realized he had forgotten to turn it off from Sunday morning, when he got up to work on the car so he could be somewhere by eleven. He plopped his head back down, prepared to fall back asleep. Just then there was a knock at his door. "Go away," he grumbled.

"I'll take that as an invitation," said Sam, opening the door. "Shit, I thought you were already up. You know school starts in like fifteen minutes, right?"

"Huh?"

"Damn it, Dean, remember, you can't flunk any more classes. You need to get up."

"Ah, shit," Dean said, putting a pillow over his head at the thought. He had forgotten that it was the first day of the new school year. His dad had a bitch-fit when he found out that Dean failed enough of his classes to get held back, saying something about how Sam had managed to skip a grade and Dean had never gotten an A in anything.

_"I got a B in woodshop," he had reminded his dad, but he just rolled his eyes._

_"If you get below a C in another class, the Impala's gone, you hear?"_

_"Whoa, dad, you can't take Baby away."_

_"Oh yes I can. She was mine in the first place, remember? No more fails."_

_Dean had sighed and agreed to it._

Now, back in the present, Dean was wondering why he needed to finish high school anyway. He was probably going to end up as a mechanic, since he knew so much about cars. He didn't need high school for that, did he?

"Dean, if you don't get up, I'll do it."

"No you won't."

"Will too," Sam insisted. When Dean didn't get up, Sam jumped onto the bed, tackled Dean, and started giving him a noogie. Sam used to do this to wake Dean up when they were younger, but he hadn't done it in years. It was eternally irritating to Dean that somehow his baby brother was taller than him, which was why he could get away with it in the first place. The guy was a fucking Sasquatch, honestly. Luckily, Dean was still stronger than Sam and was able to flip him over in about a second and start noogieing him instead. Actually, Dean admitted that he got Sam faster than usual. "Alright, alright, I give up. But you're awake now, right?"

Dean rolled his eyes, but Sam was right, the tussle had woken him up. He got dressed in some ripped jeans and a Black Sabbath tee shirt and was down the stairs about three minutes after he'd been woken up. Sam was sitting at the table eating Cocoa Puffs, already almost done.

"You going to eat?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, sure," Dean muttered, grabbing a root beer out of the fridge, along with a left over burger. He started eating the burger cold.

"That's your breakfast?"

"What are you, my mom? Get your own life," he said with his mouth full.

Sam just shook his head and drank the last of his milk. "Let's go man, we're gonna be late."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean muttered, popping open the root beer before getting in the car. They got to the school and Dean was a little humiliated as he remembered that he and Sam were officially in the same grade. Dean looked over at Sam to make fun of him for being a geek, but he actually looked so tired he was going to fall over. "Dude, did you already stay up studying all night? It's the first day."

"Yup, that's it," Sam said. Then Jessica Moore approached them.

"Sam, you look exhausted, you okay?" she asked, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Dean walked away before things got too graphic. He took his schedule out of his pocket, frowning at it. Chemistry first hour. Chemistry was the class he got the worst grade in. He got, like, a 26% or something. He just didn't get science at all. Maybe Sammy would help him. Then he had Algebra II, English 11, American History, PE, and—

What the hell, Home Ec.? How did he get Home Ec.? Dean couldn't cook for shit. Well, there wasn't much he could do about it now.

He and Sam had gotten to school a little later than usual, so he was surprised when he heard the bell while he was looking through his locker.

He half ran to the classroom, busting in with a grin. "It's alright, I'm here, you can start now." Some of the girls in the class giggled, including Lisa. He had been hoping there would be a seat open at the lab table she was at, or maybe Jo or Layla or _someone_ attractive, but the only two open seats were by Bella and some dude in a dorky tan trench coat. Bella was a raging bitch, no matter how hot she was, so Dean would take dorky trench coat over her any day. He sat down next to the guy, who had his head resting on his crossed arms as he drew on the black lab table.

Dean paid little attention when the teacher was giving instructions, saying something about opening their lab books and doing some experiment.

Next time he was paying attention, chatting had started up in the room and the boy next to him was looking at him expectantly. Dean looked up. He had dark hair and a bit of stubble.

"Sorry, I wasn't really paying attention," Dean said. "What're we doing?"

"The experiment on page six," the boy said, his voice husky and low, contrasting his large, innocent blue eyes.

"Okay. Dean," he added, holding a hand out for the boy to shake.

"I'm Castiel," he replied, taking the hand and shaking it more firmly than Dean expected.

"That's a weird name," Dean said.

"It's after an angel called Cassiel," he replied.

"Okay then," Dean muttered. "So, let's do this thing."

Castiel was quiet, only speaking when Dean asked a direct question. Dean realized after sitting with the guy for a bit that he had seen him before, just around school, but they had never talked before.

"So, what grade are you?" Dean asked.

"I'm a senior."

"In Chemistry?"

"I failed it last year."

Dean grinned. "Yeah, me too."

"That isn't something to smile about," he said seriously.

"No, probably not," Dean agreed, "but at least we have it in common."

Castiel shrugged.

Every silence was completely uncomfortable. Dean felt so awkward that he couldn't help but try to make conversation. Also, Castiel looked so sad and lonely. Dean had never seen him walking or sitting with anyone and suddenly Dean felt a little bad. "So what do you do?" Dean asked.

"Do?"

"Yeah, like, for fun?"

Castiel looked at Dean like he'd never been asked that question. "I go to bible study sometimes."

"That's fun?" Dean scoffed.

"Not everything people do is fun. Sometimes you just have to do it."

"But you've got to do _something_ fun." Castiel still had a blank look on his face. "Like, something that makes you smile and laugh."

"Well, I have a twin brother, Gabriel."

"Oh, Gabe Abeel? I know him. He's hilarious."

"Yes, that's him. He's the funny one. Anyway, he has this old car, and sometimes he'll tell me to loosen up and come for a drive, and the two of us would get in the car and go somewhere. I always told him I didn't want to go before we left, but then while we're driving, I kind of start cracking up for no reason."

Dean smiled. "That's cool, man. What kind of car is it?"

"It's a green Road Runner."

"Oh, cool, what year?"

"Um… I'm not sure."

"Well, that's cool. Maybe I'll see it in the lot, especially if it's green."

"Bright green," Castiel added. "You won't miss it. Do you like cars too?"

"Yeah, I love them. I have a '67 Impala myself."

"Oh," Castiel said, nodding, which showed he didn't really know what that meant. Then, a moment later, the bell rang. Dean found that he was actually a little bummed. For some reason he felt like Castiel was this puzzle he couldn't solve, and he was challenging himself to figure it out.

"Where do you sit at lunch?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked at the table. "Usually under the bleachers."

"_Under_ the bleachers?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

Dean considered for the first time that Castiel literally had no friends. Again, he felt guilty. Not even Gabe took the time of day to hang with his brother at school? Dean hung with Sam, not usually every day, but at least a couple times a week.

"Well, if you want, you can come find me and my brother Sam at lunch in the cafeteria."

Castiel was looking bewildered again, like nobody had ever offered him something like this before. "Okay," he said. Dean had a feeling Castiel wouldn't really come, but he thought it was worth a try.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was trying as hard as he could just to stay awake. He tried to imagine Dean's reaction if he found out Sam actually fell asleep in AP Bio. The thought made him smile a little.

He was now in AP Government, sitting with his girlfriend Jess. She kept looking at him in concern. Sam was thankful that she was smart and could tell when something was wrong usually, but right now he really didn't want to talk about it. Actually, Sam wasn't really sure what _was_ happening. It didn't really make any sense. He was trying not to think about it, because it just freaked him out and confused him at the same time.

"Hey, Sam," Jess was saying. Sam shook his head. Damn, he'd fallen asleep again. "Sam, it's time for lunch."

Sam nodded, getting up.

"You're really starting to worry me," Jess said. "You haven't been yourself for weeks, and now that school's started, you're falling asleep in class? You never fall asleep in class."

"I know," Sam said, "but it's just that I haven't been sleeping well."

"Why not?"

Sam thought fast for an excuse. "Because Dean plays his music all night," Sam went with.

Jess rolled her eyes. "I never liked him much."

"I know," Sam muttered.

"Well, he's kind of an ass. And not the sharpest tool in the shed."

"I know, you always say that," Sam said, "but, I'm telling you, he's a good guy. He just doesn't like to show it."

"I won't believe it 'til I see it," Jess insisted. Sam just shrugged as they sat down at their usual table in the cafeteria. Brady, Becky, and her little brother Zach were already there. Sam knew Dean would be there soon. Last year, Dean would trade between sitting with his own friends and with Sam's, but most of Dean's friends had been seniors, so they all graduated. That left Dean with almost nobody to hang with. It made Sam a little sad. Everybody thought his older brother was super arrogant and stupid, but he really wasn't. It was all a front. Sometimes Sam didn't even think Dean realized it, but Sam could tell during those moments that Dean was really protective of Sam, or when he suddenly got really passionate about something.

Like, over the summer, Dean was listening to Led Zeppelin and suddenly decided that he wanted to be able to play Stairway to Heaven on the guitar. So dad bought him a guitar and Dean started teaching himself the basics. He did it all day long and halfway through the night for weeks. Then, one day, he just stopped. Sam had thought he was starting to get good too.

_Sam was sitting on Dean's bed and they were just kinda staring at the ceiling. "You haven't played guitar in a few days," Sam mentioned._

_"I'm never gonna be any good at it," Dean muttered._

_"Why do you think that?"_

_"Because I'm not good at anything."_

_Sam looked over to his older brother. "That isn't true."_

_"Coming from you, that's a fucking riot. You're the genius of the family, you have a beautiful steady girlfriend, you have a job… Me? I'm the guy who failed out of 11__th__ grade, can't handle any sort of commitment, and I couldn't get a job if I tried."_

_"Hey, that's just because I try. It's important to me, to have those things. You just need to put in a little effort."_

_"What the hell's the point when I can't do anything right?"_

_Sam sat up, feeling angry without knowing why. Part of it was probably that he hadn't been able to sleep in days. "Well you're never going to get better with that attitude," Sam had said, leaving the room._

It had made Sam sad to think that a person could have so little faith in their own ability to do anything that they just refuse to try.

Just then, Dean came up to the table. For once, he had no food. It was weird enough that everyone looked over to him mid-conversation.

"You didn't grab lunch," Sam said.

"Not hungry," Dean muttered.

Everyone had gone silent. "You're not _hungry_?" Sam asked. "Who are you and what did you do with Dean?"

"Have you ever talked to Castiel Abeel?" Dean asked, ignoring Sam's comment entirely.

Sam thought it was a random question, but still replied, "Not much, no."

"I have," Jess said. "He was in my Chemistry class last year and we were partners. He made me really sad."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"Because he was so lonely. I'm not sure he has any friends at all." Dean nodded, resting his chin on his arms. "Why do you ask?" Jess prompted.

Dean shrugged. "He's in my Chemistry and Home Ec. class and I was thinking the same thing. I invited him to sit with us at lunch, but he didn't come."

Sam wondered why Dean cared, but didn't ask.

Lunch was kind of quiet because Dean was just sitting there, looking like he was thinking, and it affected everyone else's mood. Usually, when Dean was around, he was joking and making everyone crack up. Even people who didn't like him much, like Jess, thought he was hilarious. So seeing him there and not in a joking mood at all made everyone else a little uncomfortable.

The bell rang to go to the last class of the day and Dean still wasn't getting up.

"What do you have last period?" Sam asked gently, sitting down next to Dean.

"English 11."

"Hey, me too," Sam said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. So let's go, okay?"

Dean nodded and got up.

"So what's wrong?" Sam asked.

Dean was quiet for a few steps before saying, "It's just weird to me that a teenaged guy could have no friends. I don't know why it's bothering me so much."

Sam actually smiled a little. "Because you aren't actually a dick, Dean. You just pretend to be."

"Oh god, do you think I'm nice now? Can't have that," Dean said with a smirk.

"That's better," Sam said, punching his brother playfully in the arm.

"I'll hit you back—"

"Twice as hard later, yeah, I know," Sam said with a grin. "But really, if it's bothering you so much, why don't we try finding him at lunch tomorrow?"

"Well, I know where to find him, but you would do that?"

"Of course. My friends can do without me for a day."

"What about Jess, your twoo wuv?"

Sam bit his lip, looking at the ground. "She can do without me too," he said quietly.

Dean looked up at him, his eyebrows pulled together. Of course, Dean chose _now_ to be observant. "Hey, are you two okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, perfect," Sam said, walking into class.

And, because it was just Sam's luck, the problem in his relationship was sitting in the front row. And she waved. Sam wasn't sure, but he thought he might have blushed, and he forgot to walk for a second.

"Yo, Sammy, you're causing a traffic jam," Dean said. Sam shook his head and walked past her to a seat as far from her as possible.

Dean looked where Sam was staring before Sam could look away. "Wait, do you have a thing for Madison Owens?" Dean muttered.

Sam really didn't like new observant Dean. "What? No, of course not," Sam said.

"Yeah, okay, sure. Just like I haven't had a crush on Lisa since fifth grade."

Sam smiled a little. "Yeah, you have always liked her, huh?"

"So how long have you liked Maddie?"

"Not so loud!" Sam hissed, looking up. She still was looking at the front of the classroom, her black hair shining in the lights. "She works at the animal shelter with me. She loves the dogs and I love the dogs…"

"Aw, it's woof at first sight."

Sam rolled his eyes "Shut up. Why did you ask if you were just gonna tease me?"

"I always tease you. It's how I show affection. But really, what're you going to do about Jess?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's just a little crush. I'll get over it."

"Except you see her at work every day…"

"Whatever, Dean, I'll figure it out," Sam snapped. He was honestly too tired to deal with anything today, let alone his stupid crush on stupid Maddie with her stupid warm brown eyes and stupid pretty smile… Damn it.

Maybe he just… liked brunettes… better than blondes…

"Yo, Sam!" Dean hissed. "Class is over."

"Huh?" Sam muttered.

"You fell asleep," Dean said. Sam was surprised he wasn't making fun of him for it. He was also glad that Dean didn't wake him up earlier. Sam just couldn't sleep at night anymore, but he was okay during the day. He just wanted people to let him sleep. "You okay?" Dean asked.

"Since when do you pay attention?" Sam asked.

Dean was silent for a minute. "I don't know," he finally said.

Sam didn't have work that day, thankfully, so he went home and did his homework and all the work he didn't get done in class, then lay on the bed, dreading when nighttime came.

* * *

**Yo guys. So... now that I've got you here, all trapped at the bottom of this page, may I request that you review my story? Pretty please? See, I made the please pretty.**


	3. Chapter 3

Dean's alarm went off again, this time _Back in Black_.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," he said, the song making him feel awake enough that he actually got out of bed. He kept the song playing while he got ready.

Sam came into his room halfway through, probably to wake him up.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Sam said, confirming Dean's assumption.

Dean glanced over to his brother, and then felt a little concerned. Sam looked even worse than yesterday with bags under his eyes and eyelids drooping.

"Sammy, have you been sleeping at all?" he asked.

"Dean, I'm fine. Everyone needs to stop asking," he snapped, slamming the door. Dean just shook his head and finished getting ready. He opened the window and realized it was a little cold that day and threw on his leather jacket over his AC/DC shirt (inspired by the song he woke up to).

The drive to school was quiet and Sam got out as soon as they parked, stomping towards the school. Dean sighed, not sure what to do about his brother.

They had gotten to school pretty early that day, more than a half hour before classes, because Dean set his alarm for a decent time and hadn't needed to be woken up by Sam. But now, Dean didn't know where to go. All his friends had graduated. Sure, girls talked to him, but he wasn't really in the mood.

He stopped walking. What had he just thought? Had he just thought that he wasn't in the mood to flirt with cute girls? What the hell was wrong with him? Maybe the whole Winchester house was having problems right now, because dad had been gone in the morning when he woke up and still gone when he went into his room for the night for days now. And Sammy... well, he'd been tired for weeks now, but it was definitely a lot worse today.

Dean was just feeling crappy because... well, he was kind of useless. He couldn't pass any of his classes without his little brother's help, he couldn't make any friends that weren't just guys he partied with… he couldn't even befriend the lonely kid in his class.

That's what it came down to. Castiel would rather have sat alone then come to sit with Dean. Was Dean so obnoxious that nobody wanted to be around him? None of Sam's friends liked him either, but Sam insisted that he liked when Dean sat with them.

But then again, since when had Dean cared if Sam's friends liked him, or if the loner wanted to spend time with him? He just felt kind of off. It's not that his life was different, it's that he _felt_ different about it all. Both he and Sam seemed to share one thing: They never felt like they fit in with normal people. They pretended to, but somehow it always felt off. The only time Dean felt truly comfortable was when he and Sam were in the Impala, just driving.

That was one of the reasons Castiel had intrigued Dean. He didn't fit in either, and the only time _he_ felt right was when he was with his brother in an old muscle car. They had that in common.

Dean found himself meandering around the school until he was standing in front of the bleachers. They were empty, for it was too early in the year for any sports to have started. He walked to the top of the bleachers and sat, staring at nothing, for a long time. At one point, he thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned nobody was there.

He texted Sam.

Dean: Sry bout this morning. U still gonna find Castiel w/me at lunch?

Sam: Yeah, I'm sorry too. Just been tired. And sure, I'll go with you.

Dean: Thx

The bell rang for people to start towards class and Dean hurried up, not wanting to be late again. He still made it only thirty seconds before the late bell, and, again, there were only two seats available. He considered going and sitting next to Bella for a second—he didn't want to, but if Castiel thought he was annoying, he didn't want to bother him—but then Castiel looked up and smiled a little, a crooked smile with no teeth, but still better than nothing. Dean took it as encouragement and sat down.

Today Dean tried to pay attention when the teacher was telling them what to do. They were to finish the experiment from yesterday, then work on a worksheet for the rest of class.

"I got here early and finished the experiment," Castiel said when they were allowed to speak. "I did the write-up already. You can copy mine if you want."

Dean was surprised, but took the write up. He copied what Castiel had written, but half way through stopped.

"How did you fail this class last year?" Dean asked. "All these answers are long enough for my brother to have written them, and he's a major nerd."

Castiel was quiet for long enough that Dean was going to drop it, but then he finally replied, "It was the last class of the day and I couldn't go some days because I had work. I missed often enough that I fell behind and I failed. This semester I managed to get a free period so I could go to work."

"You failed because you had a job? That doesn't seem fair."

Castiel shrugged. "Life isn't fair."

Dean chuckled darkly. "True that."

To Dean's surprise, Castiel turned on him with an angry look in his eyes. "_You_ think life isn't fair? You with your supermodel good looks and your perfect life where all the girls like you and you have tons of friends? Really?"

Dean's mouth popped open a little, shocked at the little outburst. First of all, where did Castiel get the idea that his life was perfect?

Dean wasn't really sure what to say just because Castiel's assumption about him had been so completely wrong. Usually, Dean might have gotten angry, but he was too surprised to think of anything witty to reply with. Dean was quiet for a long time. Finally, he raised his hand.

The teacher approached his desk. "I don't feel so hot," Dean said.

She looked at him more closely, at first seeming suspicious, but then her eyebrows pulled together. "Actually, you don't look very well. Why don't you head to the nurse?"

"Thank you," Dean said, getting up, packing his things quickly, and leaving the classroom without looking back.

Once he'd left, he felt like a stupid coward. Someone had said something mean about him and he just ran away? What the hell was his problem? But Dean also couldn't bring himself to go back, so he went back out to the bleachers and sat until the bell rang for first period to end.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel couldn't tell you why he said what he did. It was really rude and he felt bad for saying it the second it came out of his mouth.

In his defense, though, it was the truth.

Dean was the funny guy in school, Castiel knew that. Until last year, he and Dean had been in the same grade since middle school. Dean was the type of guy that was really attractive and likeable, but somehow didn't get sucked into the snobby in-crowd. He had the best of both worlds.

Gabriel talked about Dean sometimes, because Dean went to the same parties that Gabriel did. Apparently Dean drank a lot and still somehow never got sick from it. He also was seen going off with a girl at almost every single party.

How could a guy like that say that life isn't fair?

But then, Castiel felt even worse after Dean's reaction. He had expected Dean to laugh it off, or maybe get pissed and tell him to fuck off, or something like that. But instead, Dean had been silent, looking sincerely hurt, and then had taken to fleeing the classroom. And also, that morning before school, Castiel had went to the bleachers to sit underneath them and saw Dean sitting there, staring out at the field. Castiel watched him for a minute, but then Dean turned and Castiel had to dive in order for Dean not to see him. Dean had just seemed... well, depressed. Castiel hadn't taken Dean for the type of guy to get depressed. When Castiel thought about it, it probably was really mean of him to say something like that when he had seen Dean was depressed just an hour earlier. Why, oh why, had he done that?

Had Castiel been wrong about Dean? It was possible, but after so long of being around a guy and seeing them be—well, like Dean is—it was hard to believe that there was something deeper beneath it all.

And Dean had tried to be nice to Castiel too, even invited him to lunch. Castiel had figured it was just pity and didn't bother to go, but what if Dean was really trying to be his friend?

Well, that was kind of just what Castiel did. He didn't really get people. He never said the right things to them. He and his family, they were all different. His father always said it was because they had a mission from God, but why would God's mission for Castiel be to be a complete loner his whole life?

And then there was what happened when he told his parents about talking to Dean the day before.

_Dinner was always a quiet occasion at the Abeel house, except for Gabriel goofing around, but he was out, so it was just Castiel and his parents. Well, technically, Castiel didn't live with his parents, he lived with his aunt and uncle, but he called them his parents. He had never heard much about his mother, but according to his Uncle Michael, his father was the most amazing person ever to live. Literally, his aunt and uncle talked about Castiel's father like he was some sort of saint. Castiel had asked once that if his dad was so great, why wasn't he here to take care of he and his brother? Aunt Naomi had replied that his father had a very important job to do and didn't have time to take care of his kids directly. Castiel thought that was a pretty horrible answer, but still liked to believe that maybe his father was some sort of amazing man. It was probably stupid to have faith in a person he had never met, but his whole life was centered around faith, so he was used to it._

_So they were at the table, eating salad—his parents were always on a diet—when his mother said, "So, Castiel, how was your first day? Make any friends?"_

_"No, not really," Castiel had replied. "I talked to Dean Winchester in first—"_

_"Dean Winchester?" his father had asked with interest. "And how did that go?"_

_"It was fine, I guess. He's not the type of guy I would make friends with."_

_"That's not true."_

_Castiel looked up at his dad in confusion. He didn't even know Dean. How would he know if he were a good guy or not?_

_"What do you mean?" Castiel asked._

_"You must make friends with Dean and his brother."_

_"Did I mention that he had a brother?" Castiel asked._

_"Are you listening to me, Castiel?" his father boomed. "You must befriend the Winchesters. It is your fate."_

_Castiel blinked a few times. "Umm… okay?" _

His father often knew things that Castiel had never told him, but that particular conversation was one of the weirdest he had ever had with him. It was like his parents had been asking each day if he talked to anyone new, just waiting for him to say he talked to Dean Winchester. Honestly, it was the first time his parents had shown any interest in him at all since... well, ever.

Castiel was zoning out in his classes, but he was pretty good in school and didn't have to pay much attention to absorb the information.

Then he had to walk into Home Ec. He'd been nervous about it all day, ever since his stupid explosion at Dean. He and Dean had been partners the day before, but Dean probably didn't want to be his partner today.

He walked in and saw that Dean was already sitting with a girl, one Castiel didn't know. He wasn't flirting with her though, which was surprising. He was kind of just staring at his desk. Castiel sat at the station in the back of the room.

Then class started and the teacher announced that the partners we had yesterday were going to be our partners for the rest of the semester. Castiel sighed out loud. Just his luck. He looked up and saw that Dean was making no move to get up, so Castiel pushed out of his chair and sat down next to Dean.

"Hey," Castiel said, trying to make things less awkward.

Dean continued to glare at his desk. "What, you don't think I'm an arrogant dick anymore? Just because we're partners doesn't mean we have to talk."

Castiel looked down at his shoes. What had he done? Dean hadn't done a single bad thing to Castiel and had tried to be his friend and now Castiel had managed to push him away in a single sentence.

"I shouldn't have said what I did," Castiel said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't take back the shit you say unless you didn't mean it," Dean said. "You did, so don't take it back."

It was an interesting logic that kind of intrigued Castiel. When a person said something that was mean, they would apologize later, but that didn't mean that they took back what they said, just that they shouldn't have said it. Dean was proposing that if you say something that's less than nice, you shouldn't say sorry because you don't need to apologize for saying what you think.

Castiel wasn't sure what to say, so for the rest of class, they worked on the assignment without speaking. Then, finally the bell rang and Dean was packing up and words came to Castiel. "See, you're probably right, people shouldn't take back the things they meant in the first place, because that's kind of two-faced. But I think it's okay to take things back if you realize you were wrong. I meant what I said at the time, but I've been thinking since then and I decided I was wrong. I don't know you well enough to judge you like that. So I'm sorry. And I mean that."

Dean kind of just looked at him, not seeming angry anymore, but not saying, "Oh, I forgive you," either. Castiel didn't feel like waiting for a response, so he left the classroom before Dean said anything.

Castiel had Economics, which he also didn't pay much attention to, and then went out to the bleachers for lunch. He got out a book and started to read.

"Catcher in the Rye, huh?"

Castiel looked up to see Dean leaning in front of him on one of the metal supports. "I was supposed to read that last year, but I didn't. Are you reading it for school?"

"No, I just read it in class last year and really liked it, so I reread it sometimes."

"That's cool. Do you read a lot?"

"I guess sometimes. Only at school."

"What about at home?"

_I sit in my room and pretend not to exist_? Castiel didn't want to say that, however, so he just shrugged.

"No, no more mysterious stuff," Dean said.

Castiel looked up to see Dean was donning that crooked grin of his that was absolutely contagious. Because of this, Castiel was smiling a little when he said, "What do you mean?"

"Come on, every time I ask you something you give some weird, half-assed answer."

"What am I supposed to say?"

"I dunno, something that tells me something about you?"

"Why do you care anyway?" Castiel mumbled. "I mean, I already admitted that I was wrong with what I said earlier, but you still have never cared about me before. Why now?"

Dean went from leaning on the bleachers to sitting on the grass, like Castiel was. It _did_ make Dean a little less intimidating, so Castiel was grateful.

"I'm not really very observant. I guess I never really noticed you before. But now I did."

Castiel could have been insulted by the comment, except that he was rather oblivious sometimes too, so instead he smiled a little. "But even so, just because you noticed me doesn't mean you have to care."

Dean smiled a little again. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I dunno, I just feel like… you and I aren't as different as you might think."

"How do you mean?"

"I've never been that comfortable around people."

"Is that a joke?"

Dean grinned. "No, I'm serious. I mean, it's not that I can't talk to people."

"Like every girl in the school."

"Yeah, I know, I know. I like to flirt and stuff, but that doesn't mean I feel any sort of bond with the girls. I just do it."

Castiel nodded. "I wouldn't have guessed that."

"No, most people wouldn't."

They chatted until the end of lunch, mostly about classes, and were both surprised when the bell rang.

"Oh," Castiel muttered, finding he was a little disappointed that lunch was over.

They were walking back towards the school together when Dean suddenly asked, "What are you doing after school?"

Castiel had literally never been asked that question before, so he took a moment to respond. "Nothing."

"Want to hang out?"

"And do what?"

Dean shrugged. "Whatever we feel like?"

Castiel smiled. When was the last time he did something just because he wanted to? "Yeah, okay."

Dean grinned. "Cool, meet you out front."


	5. Chapter 5

Dean didn't really know what compelled him to invite Castiel to hang out after school. After what Castiel had said in Home Ec., Dean knew he would meet him for lunch—and told Sam that he probably shouldn't come this time, because it might be awkward—but asking him to hang out was just on impulse.

Dean was leaning against the wall outside when Castiel came out, glancing around for Dean.

"Yo, Cas!" Dean called.

Castiel turned to him and blinked, approaching him. "What did you just call me?"

"Oh… uh, Cas?" Dean hadn't meant to do it, but now that he had, it was kind of catchy.

"I don't think I've ever had a nickname before," Castiel replied.

Dean smiled. "Then I think you're due for one. You are officially dubbed Cas, for now and forever."

Castiel laughed. "Yeah, okay."

Dean had never seen Castiel laugh, so Dean felt a little proud of himself that he could cause it. "Come on, let's go," Dean said. "But we gotta take my brother home."

"Okay," Castiel replied.

Dean and Cas were waiting in front of the car when Sam came up.

"Hey," Sam said, seeming a little surprised that Dean was with someone.

"Hey, Sam, this is Castiel. Cas, my brother Sam."

"Nice to meet you," Cas said politely, shaking his hand.

"He's coming over," Dean said.

"Cool," Sam said as Castiel got into the back of the Impala.

When they got home, Dean was surprised to see the truck outside the house. Dad was home, finally.

They came in to see John Winchester sitting on the reclining chair, half asleep.

"Hey, dad, we're home," Dean called.

John shook himself awake. "Oh, hey boys. Who's this?"

"Oh, dad, this is my friend Cas."

"Castiel," Cas corrected.

"I told you, your name is Cas now."

Cas just rolled his eyes.

"Okay, well I have work in an hour, so I have homework to do," Sam said.

"Yeah, _homework_," John said pointedly. "Don't _you_ have some of that, Dean?"

"Oh… yeah… That's what Cas is here for."

"Is it?"

"He's good at Chemistry. Aren't you, Cas?"

"Yes, I am," Cas said.

"See? We're gonna do homework."

John took a deep breath, pursing his lips. "You're seventeen years old. Are you honestly going to make me check that you're doing your homework? Because neither of us want that."

"I'll make him do it," Cas said. Dean looked over to him. "I'll make sure he does his homework. I promise, Mr. Winchester."

John smiled a little. "I like him, Dean. Bring him over more."

Dean grumbled. "I don't think _I_ like him anymore," he said, heading up the stairs. He opened the door to his room, which was extremely plain. "Welcome to my abode," he said, plopping onto his bed with his hands behind his head.

"You look like you just moved in," Cas muttered.

"I guess I never really decorate," Dean said with a shrug.

"It makes it feel a little like you're ready to leave at any moment," Cas noticed. Dean looked over to Cas curiously. He had never really thought about it that way, but maybe Cas was right.

"Maybe I am," Dean said.

Cas sat on the chair at Dean's computer desk. "Why?"

Dean sat up. "I dunno. I guess sometimes I feel like I don't really belong here. In high school, living this life. Like I'm meant for something else."

"Like a destiny?" Cas asked.

Dean smirked. "It sounds kind of stupid, I know, but yeah, I guess."

"No, I get it. Trust me. My dad—well, I guess technically my uncle—is always telling me how I have a destiny given to me by God. Or my father. He switches between the two."

"So you live with your uncle?"

"Yeah, Aunt Naomi and Uncle Michael."

Dean didn't want to ask why he wasn't with his parents, so he went a different route. "Do you like it with them?"

Cas looked at the ground, not saying anything.

"I guess that answers that question."

"No, it's just…" Cas muttered. "I don't know, they just have really high expectations for me. They think I'm going to change the world or something, and I don't think I will. And I have to be the good little kid all the time and when I do something wrong… well, it doesn't go well."

"What do you mean by that?"

Cas looked up. "Well… It doesn't matter."

"I kinda think it does matter, from the way you're skipping around the question."

"Since when are you all nosy?" Cas snapped.

Dean considered this. "I don't know, actually. This is kind of new for me."

"Me too," Cas admitted. "I've never had people be curious about me. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Well, hey, apparently you are going to force me to do my homework, so we can do that instead of me grilling you."

* * *

Dean and Cas finished their homework after an hour or two and were left just talking. Dean learned that Cas had one other brother, besides Gabriel, named Raphael. He was in his twenties and worked so much that he never came to visit. He also learned that Cas had absolutely no hobbies, never did anything, and had never even been on a date.

"Haven't you liked anyone?"

"I've never really had friends. I've never had the chance."

The comment made Dean sad, but he didn't say it aloud.

"Well, now's your chance to start. This weekend, we're going to a party. And we'll find you a lady."

Cas chuckled. "I doubt you'll find anyone that'll appeal to me."

"Why not?"

"I don't think you and I have the same taste."

Dean's eyebrow rose. "And what exactly does that mean?"

Cas twisted his hands together nervously. "Honestly, I don't want to go on a date. It doesn't matter."

Dean decided to drop it. Really, why did he care anyway? It wasn't any of his business. "You hungry?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, kind of."

"Good, then let's go."

* * *

Dean and Cas were at Dean's favorite burger joint. Dean and Sam went there together all the time (on Sam's money, usually, but Dean bothered to bring some of the little money he had from hustling pool, since he didn't expect Cas to pay).

Then, at some point, a few guys from school walked in, guys from the football team: Arthur, Percy, Elyot, Dwaine, and Lance. Dean thought they were kind of dicks, but they had good parties, so he tried to get along with them.

They approached the table. "Hey, Winchester," said Arthur, "Who's this?"

"Castiel Abeel," Dean said, trying to cater to the fact that Cas wanted to be introduced by his full name. "He's a senior."

"Haven't seen you around. You new?"

"No," Cas said flatly.

Arthur and his friends looked at each other, starting to chuckle.

"Do you need something?" Dean asked, trying not to sound rude.

"Just wanted to meet your _friend_. See you at my place on Friday?" Arthur always had a party the week school started.

"Yeah," Dean said, "Me and Cas'll be there," he said pointedly.

Dwaine smirked. "Cas. Cute nickname."

They all laughed and walked away.

"I'm not going," Cas vowed.

"Dude, you have to! You've got no life experience at all and I am officially your mentor."

"Mentor?"

"Yeah. I'll show you the ropes to being a teenage socialite."

"But they make me nervous," Cas said.

"And they make me want to throw them out a window. You just don't think about it. Plus, I'll be with you the whole time."

"Other than when you're hitting on girls," Cas noted.

Dean almost agreed with a laugh, but seeing the look on Cas' face, he couldn't. Cas was doing this thing with his eyes that reminded Dean of Sammy, except Cas' eyes were all blue and—not that Dean cared what color his eyes were, of course.

"No, I won't leave you, okay?"

"I doubt you'll remember that when you've been drinking, Dean."

"Will you listen to me?" Dean said sternly. "I'm making you a promise, okay? I won't break it."

Cas looked up and Dean, and then after a moment nodded. "Okay, I'll go."

Dean did a fist pump. "Awesome!"


	6. Chapter 6

Sam was sitting in the living room when Dean got home. He was carrying leftovers of his favorite burger place and looking happy.

"Was the burger really good or something?" Sam asked.

"I got Cas to come to the party on Friday."

Sam sat up. "Dean, are you making him your project or something? Because I don't think he would appreciate that."

"What? Well… kinda. But why's that a bad thing?"

"Because you're trying to change him. What's wrong with how he is?"

"Nothing's wrong with it! That's exactly why I want to do this. He's a really cool guy and somehow he's got no friends. It sucks and I wanna fix it."

Sam was surprised by his answer. "But why don't _you_ just be his friend? I think that means a lot to him."

"I am," Dean said, sitting down. "But I don't want to be his only friend. He deserves better than that. I just… this isn't selfish, Sammy. Not this time. He just seems so sad and I don't like it. I want to help."

"Dean, I think this is cool."

"You do?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Why aren't you like this with your other friends? Honestly, all the guys that graduated, you were friends with them for years and you never cared this much."

Dean was quiet. "Cas deserves it," Dean finally said. "Goodnight, Sammy. Try to sleep a little, alright?"

Dean went upstairs then. Sam couldn't figure out Dean's sudden transformation. Being observant, being nice to people, happy all the time… If Sam didn't know any better, he'd think Dean had a crush, but he hadn't met any new girls, as far as Sam—

No. He hadn't met any new _girls_. But he had met Cas.

Sam glanced up the stairs again. No way. Dean wasn't gay. He was the least gay person Sam had ever known.

Then again, he watched Dr. Sexy reruns and was prettier than half the girls in the school. And no girl made Dean like this.

Sam tried not to think about it. If Dean was feeling something like that, he'd tell Sam.

No, more likely, if Dean was feeling something like that he was in complete denial about it.

But Sam was honestly too tired to think much more about it, so he went up to his room. He glared at his bed for a minute, as if it might bite him, and then sighed. He had to _try_ to sleep, didn't he?

Well, no, technically, he didn't. He'd probably be less tired in the morning if he didn't try to sleep at all.

Sam got up and hopped onto his computer, researching random things just to keep his attention. For some reason, he ended up on some weird site about demons and how they 'walk among us'. It was pretty stupid, but Sam was entertained, so he kept looking. There was stuff about holy water and possession and even a tattoo you can get to keep from getting possessed. It was ridiculous. Sometimes Sam laughed out loud at the stuff he saw.

Then, at the bottom of the site, there was a new entry. It was from just earlier that day. The reason it caught his eye was because the user name was J . Impala . W, which seemed like way too much of a coincidence. But why would his dad be on a site made by paranoid freaks?

It was a short entry, but reading it made his stomach drop into his feet.

_Are there demons who burn women on the ceiling and try to kill infants on their six-month birthdays? Please, it's important, no jokes here. I wouldn't be posting here if I weren't desperate._

Sam swallowed, finding he was breathing hard.

His dad knew about the dreams. How could he know? He never told his dad anything.

He pressed the "print screen" button on his keyboard and saved a picture of the entry for later. He could talk to his dad in the morning. Really, it might not have been his dad. JW wasn't a weird set of initials, and who didn't love a good Impala?

There was probably… probably nothing to worry… about…

* * *

Sam is standing in a nursery, one that feels vaguely familiar. The room is empty at first, though it is cold and he almost feels like a light breeze is rolling through, even with the door and windows shut.

But Sam watches as the man walks in, a man shrouded in shadows. No matter how hard Sam tries, he can't tell what the man looks like or what he is doing over the baby's crib. He just stands there… doing something. He doesn't seem to be touching the baby… but what was the point of standing there then?

And then a beautiful woman walks in. "John? Is he hungry?"

The man does nothing but shush her.

"All right," the woman mutters. She leaves the room. The man in black continues to do whatever he's doing, whatever Sam can't see. Then, a few moments later, from downstairs. "Sammy! Sammy!" The woman runs back in, seeming to have realized that the man over the crib is not John, and then screams, because, unbelievably, she begins to slide up the wall until she is flat against the ceiling. She is past screams by then, past believing. She just stares at the baby in the crib, silently apologizing for what it is seeing, for the fact that she will never see him again. She has given in to _that_ already, Sam can see it in her eyes.

"Mary!" someone is yelling.

The dark man vanishes and John walks in. He does not look up at the gore above him, but the baby is looking. Then something drips next to the baby. John reaches for it, and then two drops land on him too. They are dark, warm. John looks up and sees his wife, bleeding from her abdomen, looking at him in shock and in pain and, just like with the baby, in apology. As if she knew the day would come when some dark something would take her away from her boys.

"No! Mary!" John yells, falling to the floor in dismay. And then the woman bursts into flames.

* * *

Sam woke up with a loud yelp, his breathing ragged with terror. He leaned over the bed—when had he gotten into bed, anyway?—to grab the towel he now always left there, wiping some of the sweat that was drenching him from his face and chest. Sam realized a moment later he was shaking, and tears were rolling down his face. He scolded himself for it.

"Get a grip," he said out loud. "It's a dream, Sam, it's a dream," he breathed, closing his eyes and trying to stop hyperventilating, but the effort only made it worse and he's sobbing and doesn't know what to do. He was just a kid, for christ's sake! He was fifteen! Why was he seeing crap like this in his head, not having any idea what to do about it? He couldn't tell anyone. They would think he's crazy. He thought of telling Dean, but he couldn't even trust _him_ not to think he's insane.

Because Sam had been plagued with the same dream, over and over again, for months now. Every night, when he tried to sleep, it came to him.

Sometimes it changed. Other times he was actually in the crib. He hated when that happened. It made it so much worse. Other times the beautiful woman was Jess, and the man, John, was him. That was even _more_ horrifying than being in the crib.

Maybe it wouldn't have been scary, except for how real it felt.

And the facts. His mother died in a fire when Sam was a baby.

Six months old, exactly.

Her name had been Mary. His father's name was John. The baby was Sammy.

But of course, the reason it was using names he recognized was because it was a dream. Nightmares were meant to scare people. Sam knew he didn't actually need to worry.

But still, he did worry. At first, the dreams just made him tired because he couldn't sleep, but after months like this, they were draining him emotionally too. And maybe even psychologically, because Sam was having a hard time believing it was only a dream anymore.

It felt too real.

And now his dad was posting things about demons and women dying on the ceiling and six month birthdays on a demon site?

He knew he had never told his dad about the dreams. So what the _hell_ was going on?

He had to talk to his dad. But maybe not yet. That weekend. Yeah, he'd talk to him then. He needed to know what was really going on.

He needed to know he wasn't losing his mind.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean was starting to forget why he hated school by Friday. Really, it wasn't so bad.

Well, part of it was that now Cas was helping him with his homework, so he might actually pass something. The dude was smart. Maybe not the same way Sam was, where he was just nerdy, but he just knew random things.

Castiel was just about the most interesting person Dean had ever met and Dean never got bored of learning more about him. He just didn't think like other people did. And the more he got to know him, Cas was actually pretty fun too. He even had made a joke once or twice.

Dean went out to see Cas at lunch on Thursday, but when he went on Friday, the area beneath the bleachers was conspicuously empty. Dean just shrugged, figuring Cas wanted to be alone, and went to find Sam at his table.

And when he did, Cas was sitting at the table, already talking. Dean smiled. Cas wasn't doing such a bad job at being social. Maybe he didn't need Dean anymore. The thought made Dean a little sad, though he wasn't sure why.

He sat down and glanced over at Sam. The guy looked terrible, officially the worst Dean had ever seen him. He was dead tired, that much was obvious, but loud noises made him jump and he kept looking around, as if waiting for something scary to come out of the shadows.

"Hey, Sammy, I think something's up with my car. I wanted to show you," Dean said.

Sam met his eyes for a moment, seeming to recognize what Dean meant. Dean wouldn't ever want Sam's help with his car, so he knew he wanted to talk alone. "Okay, we'll be back," Sam said to the table in general. He got up and Jess leaned in for a kiss, but he didn't even seem to notice.

Once they were walking in an empty area, Sam said, "So, what do you wanna talk about?"

"Promise you aren't going to yell at me."

"I won't promise that."

"It's nothing bad. Please, just promise."

Sam exhaled. "Fine. What did you do?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I didn't do anything. I just want you to tell me what's wrong. You aren't sleeping, apparently. And sometimes… I swear to god, sometimes I think I hear you screaming in the middle of the night."

Sam stopped walking in front of the Impala, looking at the ground and biting his lip.

"I've been having nightmares," Sam finally said. "The same one, every night."

"Really?"

"Yeah. And mom is always in it."

Dean looked up at Sam, more concerned than before. Dean didn't like to think about mom, because something about her death seemed… evil. It didn't feel like an accident sometimes. Dean remembered little things… like how the fire started in the nursery. Why would a fire start there? And dad, he was so petrified… there was something missing from the story, Dean had always thought so.

"What happens?" Dean asked.

"Well, she dies," Sam muttered.

Dean somehow was able to read into the comment further than what Sam actually said. Dean and Sam were like that sometimes, they just understood each other. "You mean you literally watch her death? How it really happened?"

Sam shook his head. "It can't be how it really happened. It can't be real."

"Why not?" Dean asked, an inexplicable chill going up his spine.

Sam was quiet for a minute, picking at his shirt. "Because she's on the ceiling. Pinned there with some sort of magic."

Dean blinked a few times. On the ceiling.

Now why did that situation seem familiar?

"And there's a man leaning over my crib… doing something to me. He's the one who puts mom on the ceiling. And dad's there too, he sees mom on the ceiling."

But if this was what really happened, why was Sammy seeing it in his dreams?

"And sometimes," Sam continued, seeming not to want to stop talking now that he had started, "Instead of dad and mom, it's me and Jess. Jess on the ceiling, burning, and me, blood dripping on my forehead. But we both look older…"

"Is that why you are having trouble talking to Jess lately?"

Sam nodded. "Every time I look at her, I imagine her pinned to the ceiling. It scares the hell out of me."

Dean couldn't believe his baby brother was going through all that. Sam wasn't a wimp, as much as Dean liked to say he was. If this was scaring Sam that bad… these dreams had to be horrible. It actually made Dean kind of furious, but he didn't know who to be angry at.

"Maybe that's why the idea of Maddie is so attractive to me right now," Sam added. "I've never had a dream about _her_ on the ceiling. When I look at her… I just see her."

Dean probably hadn't felt so bad for someone in his life. Every fiber in him was saying, "fix Sam's problem, protect Sam," but he had no idea how to do that.

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I haven't gotten to the worst part yet," Sam admitted.

"How the fuck could it get worse?" Dean asked blankly.

"Oh, just wait," Sam muttered, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it and there was already a picture open, as if it was the last thing he looked at. "I found it on the computer and I put a picture on my phone. I guess I figured I'd tell you. But anyway, this is one of those freaky websites where people that believe in demons and monsters and stuff post what they know. And this is the newest entry.

Dean leaned over it, seeing an entry by J . Impala . W. His eyebrows went up as he looked over to Sam. "Yeah, I know, read it," Sam continued.

Dean looked back down. The entry read, "Are there demons who burn women on the ceiling and try to kill infants on their six-month birthdays? Please, it's important, no jokes here. I wouldn't be posting here if I weren't desperate."

"What the flying fuck, man," Dean said. "And you never told him about your dreams, I'm assuming." Sam shook his head. They were both quiet, looking around. They were thinking the same thing, they both knew it.

Dean was the one that had the guts to say it. "If dad knows about it, and you never told him… then what if your dreams are real?"

"That just… it sounds insane."

"I know." But Dean couldn't help but feel like, somehow, it made sense. Like everything in his life so far was leading to this. "I just feel like I don't know what to do with this information."

Sam smirked, the closest he'd been to a smile in days. "Yeah, tell me about it. I'm going to ask dad what he knows this weekend."

Dean nodded. "So you don't freak out when you fall asleep in class," Dean noticed.

"Yeah, the nightmares only really happen at night."

"Then I think you need to head home."

"Dean—"

"There's only one class period left and you have it with me. I'll grab all your work, I promise. I just know you are going to the party tonight, so why don't you get some sleep first?"

"You want me to get rest for a party?"

"Judgment impaired by sleep deprivation is a bad idea at one of Arty's parties. Heh, that rhymed," he added. Sam rolled his eyes. "But seriously, dude. People will ask you to do things you don't want to do."

"Are you saying someone's gonna rape me?"

"Well, that wasn't what I meant, but it could happen, man. You need to be prepared. And either way, you need to sleep, okay? So let's get you out of here."

* * *

Dean was able to get Sam a note to go home. Dad wasn't available to pick him up—probably doing whatever he had been for days now, which Dean had a nasty feeling had to do with the post he put on the internet—so Dean took him back, getting back to school just in time for English.

He actually paid attention too, because Sam wasn't there to explain it all later, and wrote down all the work. He couldn't let Sammy down, not when his whole life probably felt like it was falling apart.

Dean got home and checked in his room. He smiled a little when he saw Sam was sleeping.

He thought about the party. Well, now there was no way he was going to break Cas' promise. He didn't feel like partying much, not after all he'd learned.

What was happening to his life? It had all made so much sense before… but now…

He had no idea what to do. About anything.

"Fuck," he muttered out loud. What the hell was happening?

* * *

**Please please PLEEEEEASE leave me a review! I want to know what you think of the story so far!**


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel hadn't asked his dad about the party all week because he was afraid of what his reaction might be. Usually, he wouldn't even try it, but since his dad seemed so keen of Castiel spending time with Dean, he thought maybe he'd go for it.

"What are you all dressed up for?" he asked when Castiel came down the steps. Castiel was wearing jeans and his trench coat, like usual, but underneath he wore a blue button-up shirt instead of a tee shirt.

"Dean invited me to a party. I'm staying at his place after, so don't wait up."

His father had a stern look on his face and Castiel got scared. "You mean that this _boy_ invited you to a festival for cretins and you accepted the invitation?"

Castiel stared at the ground. "You told me to make friends with him."

"Yes, but not to stoop down to his level! You are not like other people, Castiel!"

He was always saying that and Castiel hated it. "What if I want to be like other people? Dad, that's what Dean's teaching me! To be a normal person, to have friends! Because of you, I was always afraid to do that, but Dean... Everything's different now. And I like it this way."

Uncle Michael came forward, towering over Castiel even though he was six feet himself. "What your father must be thinking, hearing this," he said shamefully.

"Stop acting like dad's here. He's not."

"No, he is, Castiel. He's always here."

"Just stop! My dad's not here and he never will be! He's just a dead-beat who left me and Gabriel with his brother! You're my dad now, okay? Forget about him!"

Uncle Michael's face contorted with fury and he hit Castiel across the face. Castiel fell back onto the stairs. "Do not speak about your father that way! I won't have it in this house!"

"But it's true! And I'm not going to pretend it's not anymore!"

"Fine then. As long as you feel that way, you aren't welcome here."

Castiel almost felt something in his chest break. His father sometimes hit him, sure, but he never told him to leave. And he _always_ meant what he said. He wasn't the type of person to take it back later. "But... Dad..."

"I'm not your father, Castiel! And until you realize the wonder of your true father, you'll leave my house! Pack a bag. Get out!"

Castiel stared up at Uncle Michael, his eyes burning. Then he nodded and treaded up the stairs, packing some clothes.

He came back down and Uncle Micheal wasn't even there to see him off.

A tear fell down his face as he walked into the night.

* * *

Gabriel was sitting in the car already, waiting for Castiel.

"Hey man! I thought you might have been joking when you said you needed a ride to the party, but here you are! You decided to get a life?"

"Yeah..." Castiel said. Gabriel said nothing about the bag that Castiel had with him.

"Hey, dude, what's got you down? You nervous or somethin'? You're gonna have a great time!"

"I'm sure," Castiel muttered.

"Hey, you're killin' my buzz, man."

"Sorry," Castiel muttered.

Gabriel looked over again. "Why do you have a bag?" he asked, his voice suddenly more serious. "Castiel, what happened?"

Castiel cleared his throat because just thinking about what had just happened made him feel all choked up. Gabriel leaned over for a second, then turned on the light. Castiel tried to turn his face towards the window, but Gabriel was faster than him. He grabbed his chin.

"Shit, Castiel, what'd you say this time?" he asked, sounding exasperated and sad at the same time as he looked at the bruise that Castiel had already figured was forming on his face.

Castiel bit his lip. "I—I spoke ill of our father," he finally said.

Gabriel sighed, turning to the windshield. "You should know better than that, man. You know how Uncle Michael is."

"I should've, I know."

"Just don't say it again and you'll be fine."

"Yeah," Castiel said. He didn't want to admit the whole truth to Gabriel. He was too ashamed of what had happened.

They were halfway to the party when Gabriel remembered.

"You didn't tell me why do you have a bag."

"I'm staying at Dean's tonight."

"Dean Winchester? You mean our _fate_?" Gabriel chuckled.

Castiel looked over to him. "Does da—Uncle Michael say that to you too? That our fate is—"

"—intertwined with that of the Winchester's? Yeah. I didn't know he said it to us both."

"Well, I think my destiny was taken from me," Castiel said.

"There's something you aren't telling me," Gabriel accused.

Castiel sighed. "He kicked me out."

Gabriel slammed on the brakes, going to the side of the road. "Damn it!" he yelled.

"What? I—I'm sorry," Castiel whimpered.

"No, no, I'm not mad at you. Sorry, that's not it. I get not having faith in our father when he's never around. I just… I want our family to be together again. I want Raphael to come home and dad and mom to appear so we can all be together. Even Uncle Michael's other brother that he hates so much, that he never names. Why can't families just be together?"

Castiel understood what Gabriel was saying, but Castiel wasn't sure he wanted to be controlled by Michael anymore, or wait for his father to come home.

"Well I screwed everything up," Castiel said. "Like I always do."

"Hey, Castiel, don't talk like that. Arguments aren't one sided. And honestly, Uncle Michael starts them usually. You just speak your mind. We can talk sense into him tomorrow," he said, beginning to drive again. They got to the house and Castiel still hadn't responded.

"I don't know if I want to fix it," Castiel said. Gabriel looked over to him.

"Castiel, you're just mad. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

Castiel didn't want to argue with Gabriel too, so he nodded and Gabriel got out, going inside without Castiel. Castiel didn't want to go in, not without Dean. Ever since he walked out of that house, he wanted to see Dean again. Well, actually, ever since he walked out of Home Ec. on Tuesday he wanted to see Dean again. Out of nowhere, he felt like there was a place that he belonged… and that place was beside Dean.

And Dean wanted to try to hook Castiel up with some girl. He hadn't seemed to catch the hint that girls were never really Castiel's type. Not that Castiel had ever dated anyone, boy or girl, but he was never likely to think girls were good-looking. But Dean Winchester… it was almost indecent, how attractive he was. Castiel usually tried to ignore thoughts like that, because Uncle Michael would beat him into next June if he knew about that, but now Uncle Michael couldn't do anything about it…

But he needed to stop right there. Either way, Dean would never reciprocate any sort of feelings and Castiel knew that. He was friends with Dean, that was it.

Just then, the song _Iron Man_ could be heard playing in the distance, which Castiel assumed was Dean and Sam. He found a moment later that he was right. Sam and Dean got out of the Impala—and Castiel vaguely noticed that Sam looked a lot better than he had earlier that day, not so exhausted.

And Dean… well, he didn't look all that different, but it was enough. He had a green button up shirt thrown on over his tee shirt, which made his eyes brighter green than usual. Dean caught a glimpse of Castiel and smiled, approaching him.

"Hey, I'm glad you came," he said. Then his smile faded and he turned Castiel towards the house so that the right side of his face was in the light. "Dude, what happened?" Dean asked sternly, in that don't-you-give-me-any-nonsense sort of voice. Castiel tried to avoid looking at Dean, but Dean turned his face towards him, meeting his eyes. "Tell me." Castiel tried to meet his eyes steadily, but it made his eyes burn to watch someone have so much concern for him. Castiel thought Dean might have noticed the tears forming, because he let go. He then said quietly, "You said that when you do something wrong, it doesn't go well. Is that what happened?"

"Dean, can we please talk about this later? I thought we were having fun."

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Of course," Castiel replied.

"I'm not really in the mood for this right now. I'll stay if you want to, but after today… I don't know, I'm just feeling kind of tired," he said, but then repeated, "I'll stay if you want to."

Castiel was inwardly relieved. "There'll be other parties, Dean. Want to go home?"

"Kind of, yeah."

"Good, then let's go."

Dean found Sam and told him he was leaving. Sam said that he would find a ride with someone else.

The two of them got in the car and headed for the Winchester place.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean was just tired of life being insane. Learning about Sam's dreams was enough drama for a lifetime, and now he figured out that Cas' dad hit him? It was enough to completely kill any desire he had to party. Usually, he would have wanted to drink just to ignore it all, but he wasn't even in the mood for that at this point. Dean and Cas got back to the house and it was still empty—Dean had figured it would be. They went up to Dean's room and Cas sat down on the edge of the bed. Dean plopped down next to him, laying back and staring at the ceiling.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Dean asked.

"It doesn't really matter," Cas said.

"How does you getting hit not matter?"

"He won't hit me again," he replied.

"How do you know that?" Dean retorted. "There's no way to be sure."

"Yeah, actually, there is," Cas muttered, laying back too, "because Uncle Michael kicked me out."

Dean turned towards Cas. "What?"

"Yeah. It's kind of a long story, but I told him about going to the party with you and—"

"He kicked you out because I invited you to a party?" Dean demanded, half appalled at his uncle because he would be that crazy, but half at himself too because that meant it was his fault that this happened to Cas.

"That was how the argument started, but it ended somewhere way different. But really, you wouldn't get it. I hardly even get it."

"Try me."

Cas sighed. "I was just insulting my father. See, he's never around, but Uncle Michael talks about him like he's the Lord himself. So I insulted him one too many times and my uncle got mad."

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard," Dean muttered.

"I know. I don't really get it either."

"But where are you going to stay then?"

Cas shrugged. "I'll figure something out."

Dean looked over to Cas. "Why don't you stay here?"

Cas turned his head and Dean didn't expect Cas' face to be so close. His eyes were such an interesting color of blue—bright, but still somehow dark. "You mean that?"

Part of Dean wanted to scoot back, but he couldn't bring himself to. "Of course I do," Dean replied. Cas didn't reply, they just continued to look at each other, eyes locked.

_Okay, this is weird_, Dean thought. _This is… well, it's kind of… romantic_.

And Dean found he was nervous, like something was stuck in his throat. He swallowed, but it didn't help. There was a fluttering in his stomach.

He didn't even blink.

Cas was the one who got up. "I've got to use the restroom," he muttered.

Dean didn't breathe again until Cas had left the room, then he exhaled, but still didn't move.

What the hell was wrong with him? That moment… he'd never even had a moment like that with a girl, let alone…

He blinked a few times, and then finally sat up.

_I'm not gay_, he thought to himself fiercely.

No, Dean wasn't gay. That was true. But that didn't change what had just happened, how Dean could still feel his pulse in his neck, which was way faster than it should have been.

Dean sat there for a long time, trying not to think, until he noticed that Castiel had been in the bathroom for a long time. He got up, knocking on the door. "You okay?" Dean asked. There was no response. He knocked again. "Cas?"

"Just hiding from my life. Don't worry about me."

Dean rolled his eyes at Cas' almost joke. "Then why don't you hide out here?"

"I'm hiding from you too," Cas replied.

"Are you? And why're you hiding from me?"

Cas exhaled. "You honestly don't know?"

Dean was quiet. Yeah, Dean was pretty sure he knew. He knocked again. "Dude, get out of the bathroom." Silence. "What if I have to pee?"

"You don't."

"Maybe not, but I'm going to have to eventually." No response. "Cas, I have a key to the bathroom. I'll go get it if you don't come out." Dean could hear Cas sigh, and a moment later he opened the door. Cas' eyes were red. "Hey, are you crying? What's wrong?"

"I'm not crying," Cas sniffed, shoving past Dean and sitting in his rolling chair.

Dean walked over to Cas, kneeling in front of him. "Tell me what's wrong."

"You know what's wrong."

"No, I don't actually see much of a problem."

"I just fuck everything up, Dean."

Dean nearly flinched at the sound of Cas cursing. "You didn't fuck up anything, Cas."

"Yes I did. I said exactly what Uncle Michael didn't want to hear so that I got kicked out, and I push everyone away, and now I'm gonna push you away too because of my—" Cas stopped, looking at the ceiling to avoid Dean's eyes again.

"Because of your what?" Dean asked.

"Nothing."

"Cas." Dean felt kind of lost, not understanding any of his emotions anymore, so he was kind of just letting his body act without the permission of his mind—whether or not he would regret that later. So automatically, he grabbed Cas' hand in his. It made his stomach twist anxiously, and Cas looked down at his hands as if he couldn't believe it was Dean unless he looked. "Because of your _what_?" he repeated.

"Umm…" Cas muttered, his face turning red. It was kind of cute so Dean had to keep himself from smiling. He didn't think that would be encouraging. "I told you that you and I don't have the same type… because I don't… well…"

"Because you're gay?" Dean finished tentatively. Cas bit his lip, trying to pull his hand away. "Hey, you don't need to be ashamed. I don't mind."

"But it's not just that I'm—" Cas started, pausing for a moment as if he were choking on the words. He tried again. "It's not just that I'm… gay, Dean. It's that…" Cas stopped again.

Dean realized that Cas was way too uncomfortable to say anything. Dean got up, smiling. "Hey, Cas, have you ever seen _Austin_ _Powers_?"

"_Austin_ _Powers_?" he repeated blankly.

"Yeah. It's like this movie making fun of James Bond. It's hilarious. Let's watch it."

Cas looked confused, but also relieved that Dean had let him off the hook. Dean held out his hand and Cas took it. They sat together on Dean's bed and watched the movie on his TV.

Dean was a little distracted, but Cas seemed to think it was funny.

Dean just was trying to make sense of how he was feeling. He took a glance at Cas, who had a small, absent smile on his face as he watched the movie. He had the bruise on his cheek bone, but that really only just brought out the shape of his face. Cas' stubble was a little scruffier than usual and his hair was messy, as usual… how ironic, a virgin with perpetual sex-hair. Dean smirked at his internal joke.

Cas glanced over to Dean and looked surprised. "What're you looking at? Do I have something on my face?"

Now Dean could see his eyes, wide and jewel blue. Dean had never really noticed men before, at least not like this, but Cas was kind of beautiful. Dean was so enthralled that he wasn't even able to think about how weird it was for Dean to call a man 'beautiful'.

"Nothing, zoning out," Dean said, looking back at the movie. It took Cas a minute to look back at the screen again.

Dean was feeling more and more conflicted the longer he sat there, because all his instincts told him to lean over, take his hand, to do _something_.

But what Dean realized was that when everything in his life was turning fucked up, when he was feeling more and more separate from all the other people he knew, Castiel was becoming this constant for him, something that made sense and made him comfortable and happy. And suddenly it didn't really matter to Dean what gender they were, what other people might think. Cas made Dean happy—really, genuinely happy—for the first time in a long time. That was all that really mattered.

Dean looked over at Cas again with a shaky breath, then scooted closer to him and put his arm around his shoulders. Cas looked up in what may have been shock or alarm.

"Are you high, Dean?" Cas asked, quite seriously.

"No," Dean muttered, moving his arm, suddenly feeling timid. That's what he got for acting on impulse.

"Wait, sorry, I wasn't trying to be mean. I'm just… confused."

"Why?"

"Because… I just admitted that I'm gay and now you're… what, flirting with me?"

"Um… I guess I wasn't doing so well if you have to ask."

"I… what?"

Dean cleared his throat. He wasn't sure why he felt so nervous. He'd done this a million times before… just usually with girls.

This was so confusing.

"Well… Cas—"

"I mean, you're straight, aren't you?"

"I—shit, I don't know! Why does it matter? Straight, gay, what the hell does any of it mean anyway? I've felt like shit about basically everything for months now. You think you're a fuck up? I flunked out of junior year and never stay with anything and all my friends are gone and most of my problems are my fault in the first place. And now everything in my life is getting weird and nothing makes sense—but you. You make sense. Being with you is… well, it's not simple, but when you're around I kind of forget about the other shit, and all that matters is that you're with me, you know? Does that make sense?"

Cas was staring at Dean, still looking a little shocked. Then he smiled crookedly, chuckling a little. "Yeah. Actually, you have no idea how much sense that makes to me."

Dean smiled. "So… no, maybe I'm not gay… But I think I still like you anyway."

Cas smiled wider, showing more of a public display of delight than Dean had ever seen. And somehow Dean thought that made him more beautiful than he was a second before.

Neither of them really knew who initiated it. Maybe it was both of them. But they were just looking at each other, smiling… and then a moment later, they kissed.

They both backed up, eyes wide as if it had been an accident. But Dean couldn't stay away, not after that. They kissed again, more slowly. They backed away again, just staring at each other. Cas looked ecstatic, but maybe scared too. Dean probably looked about the same.

"So…" Cas muttered. "What exactly _is_ this?"

Dean exhaled. "I have absolutely no idea. Let's figure that out later."

Cas leaned into Dean's chest, Dean wrapping his arm around Cas more confidently this time, and they looked at the movie once more.


	10. Chapter 10

Sam had gotten himself into some bad situations before. Really, he wasn't quite as innocent as his brother liked to suppose.

But now he was at Arthur the quarterback's party and Dean went home with Cas—honestly, he needed to talk to Dean about what his true sexual orientation might be—and Jess had work in the morning, so she left too and he told her he would find a ride and then—god, he was stupid—he mentioned to Maddie that he didn't have a ride home. Sam was lucky—or extremely unlucky, depending on how you thought about it—that she was about the only person that hadn't been drinking that was still at the party.

So here Sam was, sitting in the car with Maddie as she drove him home. Her hand was on the gear shift and it was kind of ridiculous how much he wanted to grab it.

He kept trying to remind himself that he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend he liked a lot, in fact. They talked about going to Stanford together and he was happy about it. But when he looked at her… he just saw the flames. Her on the ceiling. And he couldn't help but feel like his future with her was going to be like that. With her dead.

But Maddie wasn't going to die. In fact, she was really sweet, and she was so much fun at work. She was so good with the dogs, it was almost like she spoke their language. And sometimes she would go and pick up food and bring enough back for both of them and they would talk about how Sam was considering going to law school and how she wouldn't mind if she just worked with the dogs for the rest of her life and somehow, Sam really liked that about her. Jess was kind of like him, always wanting to have a plan, make a list. But Maddie, she just kind of did what she wanted.

Like, in this case, drive the very not single and mildly intoxicated Sam home.

"Hey, Sam, how've you been lately?" she asked at one point.

"Oh, fine," he muttered.

"I just mean, you've seemed really tired."

Man, how weird was he acting if _everybody_ was noticing?

"Yeah, I'm not really sleeping," he said. He was kind of surprised he told her so quickly, since Jess had to ask for weeks before he finally admitted it. Maybe it was the alcohol.

"Nightmares?" she asked.

"Yeah, actually. How'd you know? You're so smart!"

She giggled before replying, "Oh, I get them sometimes too. Not much, but I get that. But you seem better now."

"Yeah, Dean told me I needed to get some rest at school today and took me home."

"That was nice of him," she said. Wow, and she wasn't insulting Dean either. That was nice.

"You're pretty," Sam told her seriously.

She bit her lip, smiling. "How much did you drink, Sam Winchester?"

"Oh… you know… not much."

"Yeah. Seems like it. Hey, we're parked, maybe I should take you inside."

"Take me to my room? I'd like that. Because, honestly, I really like you."

She opened her mouth a little bit, like she was going to say something, then shut it again. "Aren't you with Jess?"

"Oh… yeah, but I always imagine her on fire now."

"Excuse me?"

"Whoa, that didn't come out right. I mean I keep having nightmares about her dying and it's super depressing."

"Oh," she muttered. "I see. Sam, you're drunk. You should get inside."

"I'd way rather make out with you."

Sam realized, somewhere inside, that all the things he was saying were things that were better left in his head, but he just couldn't shut up.

"Sam… come on, get inside," she said, coming around the car and opening his door. She helped him up, trying to support him even though he was a lot bigger than her. He was trying to walk straight, but it wasn't working. He hadn't thought he was _that_ drunk, but he was finding he didn't have much control over anything he was doing at that moment. _  
_

They were at the door and he looked down at her. She was so damn pretty. So he leaned in and kissed her.

"Sam, I promise, you're going to regret that in the morning," she said. "You're a great guy, and honestly, I'd date you if I got the chance, but you have a girlfriend and you're happy with her. So I'm gonna go, okay?"

"Okay. See you later!"

He went in the door and stood there for a minute.

Then he blinked. What the hell had he just done?

God, he'd just kissed Maddie.

That was really bad.

And awesome.

And BAD.

And still awesome.

He grumbled something about drinking being bad as he fumbled his way up the stairs. It was two in the morning, but he needed to talk to Dean about what had just happened. So he opened the door and…

"Oh," he muttered out loud. Dean was asleep in his bed, but he wasn't alone. Dean had his arm draped around Cas. Neither of them were wearing shirts, but he was just praying they were wearing pants under the sheets.

He shut the door again before either of them woke up.

He stood out there for a minute, not knowing what to think. He had been internally joking about Dean being gay… but he wasn't _actually_ gay, was he?

He decided that all that thinking could wait til the morning. He got to his bed and fell down onto it, instantly asleep.

* * *

Sam, Madison Owens, and Dean are all in an apartment. They all look older, just like usual. Sam's even bigger and Madison's more beautiful than before.

Maddie's crying. The real Sam is watching the scene from the side.

"Sam, I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you," Madison says. Then she gets out a gun and brings it to him.

Sam, dream Sam, looks horrified. "Put that down."

"I can't do it myself. I need you to help me," she insists.

"Madison, no," Sam whimpers.

Somehow, Maddie looks sad and resigned at the same time. "Sam…I'm a monster."

He shakes his head. "You don't have to be. We can find a way, all right? I can. I'm gonna save you."

Maddis starts to cry harder. "You tried. I know you tried. But this is all there is left. Help me, Sam. I want you to do it. I want it to be you."

Sam looks a little like he can't breath. "I can't."

Madison swallows. "I don't wanna die. I don't. But I can't live like this. This is the way you can save me. Please. I'm asking you to save me."

Sam looks at her, a completely tortured look in his eyes. Then Dean approaches them, taking the gun from Madison. Sam walks into the kitchen and Dean follows.

Dean is just staring at Sam. "Sam. I'm sorry," he says, as if he wishes there was more _to_ say.

Sam is trying hard not to cry, but is not succeeding. "No, you're right. She's right."

Dean gives Sam a look he recognizes, but maybe even more intense than he had ever seen. A protective look, when Dean was in big-brother mode. "Sammy, I got this one. I'll do it."

"She asked me to," Sam says stubbornly.

"You don't have to."

"Yes, I do," he says. "Please." He holds his hand out, and, after a hesitation, Dean hands it to him. "Just wait here."

Sam is about to go into the other room, but he takes one desperate look back at his big brother, tears rolling down his face. Somehow, even in this much agony, there is a look of resignation on Sam's face, as if he's very used to pain.

Dean looks upset too, as if all he wants is to know the right words to say, but there's just nothing coming to him.

Sam walks into the other room. Real-Sam tries to see what happens, but he's stuck watching Dean.

Dean looks like he's on the verge of tears, which Sam has never seen before. He's almost sad Dream-Sam is missing it.

Then, just as the tear threatening in Dean's eye falls, there's a gunshot. Dean flinches at the sound.

* * *

"No!" Sam bellowed, awaking feeling distinctly like he couldn't breathe.

What the hell? Now Maddie too? And why did the stupid dreams feel more like premonitions than dreams?

Sam was sitting in his bed, his knees tucked into his chest, when the door opened and Dean rushed in. The look on his face was so much like in the dream that Sam began to cry harder.

"Whoa, Sammy, Sammy, it's okay!" Dean soothed, coming over to the bed. "Another nightmare?" Sam nodded, unable to speak. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Dean, I think everyone I love is going to die."

Dean met his eyes, looking appalled. "Why would you say that?"

"These dreams are _real,_ Dean!"

"Now, Sammy—"

"No, I'm serious! They're real! First I saw mom, and then I'm seeing how Jess is gonna die, and then now Maddie."

"Maddie was on the ceiling?" Dean asked sadly.

"No! I fucking shot her, Dean! You were there! You were going to do it, but then I asked for the gun, and I shot her!" His voice cracked at the end.

Dean blinked a few times, backing up. Sam had honestly never seen Dean look that concerned about someone in his life. "Sammy, you could never shoot anyone. And I would never let you. Come on, it's okay. You just need to breathe."

Sam spent the next twenty minutes trying to breath, then another ten to stop crying. Dean stayed there the whole time, but said nothing.

"Now, you listen to me, Sammy. These dreams are just that: dreams. You can't think on them anymore, okay? We're gonna talk to dad tomorrow, about the other dream, okay? But for now, you can't sleep anymore."

"I can't just not sleep."

"Just until morning. We'll go downstairs and watch movies."

"What about Cas?"

Dean looked at the ground. "He's asleep."

"I saw you… kind of cuddling. What was up with that?"

Dean looked like he was going to say something rude, but then sat back down. "I don't really know, Sam. I'm not sure what's happening. But I'm happy."

Sam smiled, without having to try for the first time in days. "Then good. As long as you're happy," Sam replied.

Dean smiled gratefully, maybe because Sam wasn't asking any more questions. "Now it's time to cheer you up. Come on, down the stairs. Bring some movies. Action ones that'll keep you awake!"

* * *

**Hey, just as a behind the scenes note for people who actually got this far in my story, writing what happened in the end of Heart (episode 2.17) was so sad that I started crying! Man, they are good writers. **

**Thanks so much for those of you that actually made it to chapter ten. It means a lot to me. Hope you continue to read and enjoy!**

**Now, please, do me one more favor and tell me what you think of it so far.**


	11. Chapter 11

Dean made a bowl of popcorn and he and Sammy shared the couch, watching _A-Team_ first.

"Then we're watching _Tropic Thunder_," Dean said with a grin as he put the movie in the player.

"Isn't that technically a comedy?"

"You and technicalities. There're guns and dudes playing dudes disguised as other dudes, that's all that matters to me." Sam smiled tiredly in response. "If you try to fall asleep, I won't hesitate to wake you up," he warned. "And it might not be very nice."

"Okay," Sam said, still smiling, "But I won't do it on purpose."

"That doesn't matter! Hell to pay, Sammy."

The first time he tried to sleep was during _A-Team_. Dean noticed and started throwing popcorn at him. Sam opened his eyes and laughed. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Yeah, you better be."

The next time was during _Tropic Thunder_. He tried the popcorn again, but it didn't work. He reached out and kicked him in the shin.

"Ow!" Sam said, but still somehow he was laughing.

"Is it just me, or are you in a better mood right now than you have been all week?"

Sam shrugged. "We haven't done this in a long time. Like, just hang out. Even if the circumstances kind of suck, it's nice. And I might still be a little drunk," he added.

Dean cracked up. "You actually drank?"

"A little too much. I kind of kissed Maddie."

"No fucking way!"

"Yeah... not that I want to think about _her_ right now."

"Right," Dean muttered, and they looked at the movie again.

At the end of that movie, Dean heard someone walking around upstairs. "Oh yeah, Cas," Dean muttered.

"What? Can you hear him?"

"Yeah, I think he woke up and is wondering where I went."

"Bring him down here."

Dean glanced at Sam. "You sure? I thought we were brother bonding."

"I'm absolutely sure," Sam replied.

Dean smiled at Sam and went up to his room, where Cas was in the bathroom. He came out a moment later.

"Oh, there you are," Cas said. "Where'd you go?"

"Sam needs to stay up all night, so we're watching movies."

"Why?"

"Long story. But wanna come down and watch too?"

"Sure, okay," Cas said with a smile. He and Dean went down stairs to see Sam was dozing off again.

"Sammy!" Dean hissed. Nothing. So Dean jumped over the couch and starting noogieing Sam. Sam's eyes shot open.

"Oh," Sam muttered.

"Damn, I can't leave you for a second."

"Sorry, sorry," Sam muttered.

"Don't make me sit on your lap. I will," Dean threatened.

"No, you don't need to do that. But seriously, I think my shin is bruised."

"This is war. There'll be casualties," Dean said seriously.

"War?"

"Yes! This is serious, Sammy! To the next movie!"

They watched _The Expendables 2_ next. Dean wanted to watch a Chuck Norris movie, but Sam wanted to watch Jet Li—which was super fucking lame, by the way, because Chuck Norris is way more of a badass—so after a short argument they decided to watch a movie with both of them. This time, however, Dean was sitting between Sam and Cas, which somehow just felt right to him. Dean was holding Cas' hand, but kind of hiding it between them. Dean knew Sam understood what was happening to a point, but still didn't want to show it yet.

By the time that movie was over, the sun had been up for a while.

"I think it's safe now, Sammy," Dean said. "Go to sleep, alright?"

Sam nodded, getting up to head to his room. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," he said. "Really, this means a lot to me."

"No problem, man. Now go to bed!"

Sam smiled and went up the stairs. This left Dean and Cas on the couch alone.

"You tired?" Dean asked.

"You woke me up at six, so yeah, a little," Cas said with a smirk.

"Let's go sleep then," Dean said, "But first, I need to get something," he said, grabbing his keys.

"Like, go somewhere?"

"Yeah. You can stay here."

"No, I'll come."

"But first, we should put on shirts," Dean mentioned.

Cas looked down, as if he had forgotten he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Oh yeah."

* * *

They came back home a half hour later with brand spankin' new baby monitors.

"Now why did we get these?" Cas asked.

"So I can hear Sam if he wakes up."

Cas was beyond confused. "You are monitoring your fifteen year old brother as he sleeps?"

"Yeah," Dean said, not bothering to explain any further. He went into Sam's room and put one on his bedside table, then went to his room and put the other on his computer desk.

Then he threw off his shirt and jumped onto the bed, and Cas sat down beside him. Dean held out his arms and Cas smiled and lay next to him. Dean wrapped both arms around Cas and couldn't help but grin. It was odd, how quickly he was getting used to this. Having a guy laying beside him instead of a girl. It was oddly comforting to feel something substantial there in his arms, someone almost his size, with firm muscles pressed against him. Dean's cheek was resting against the top of Cas' head and Dean felt so comfortable, so at home, that his eyes drooped shut barely ten seconds after he lay down.

* * *

They woke up again a little after noon and Dean looked around the house for dad. He wasn't there. He peeked into Sam's room, even though the baby monitor had been silent…

And Sam was up, listening to music and on his computer.

"Michael Bublé? Really?" Dean mocked.

"Shut up. He's good."

"Wait, how did I not hear you playing music?" Dean asked.

"Huh?" Sam muttered, turning to Dean. He looked a lot less tired today, which Dean was glad about.

"I put a baby monitor in here so I could hear if you woke up."

"God, did you really? That's embarrassing."

Dean forgot that he hadn't told Sam about the monitor, so he wouldn't even know it was there. Dean rolled his eyes and went over to the monitor. The red light was no longer on. He figured that since Sam hadn't known about it, he couldn't have turned it off, so he wasn't sure why it wasn't on. He flipped the switch, but nothing happened. "Weird," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's not turning on."

"Batteries?" Sam asked.

"I could have sworn I put some in," Dean muttered, opening the back. The batteries were there.

"Maybe they're dead."

"I got brand new ones when I bought the monitor."

They looked at each other, both trying to hide their fear and not succeeding. "Well… maybe they were duds," Sam said, but he sounded like he knew he was reaching.

"Yeah, that's probably it," Dean agreed. "Well, Cas and I were going to go to Cool Shots. Want to come?"

Sam sighed. "Just because I keep having nightmares doesn't mean I need to be babysat, Dean."

"I was just asking," Dean said.

"Well, thanks, but I'm okay. You and Cas go have fun, okay?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, okay." Then he turned to the door, seeing if Cas was out there. He wasn't. He shut the door and sat on the bed. "What am I supposed to do, Sam?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Well… I don't know exactly what's happening with Cas right now…"

"But you aren't just friends?" Sam guessed.

Dean nodded. "And I don't want to seem ashamed of it or anything, but I don't really want the whole damn school to know… Oh, and Cas got kicked out of his house, so I think he'll be staying here for a while."

"_Kicked_ _out_? He's the most innocent guy I've ever met."

"I know. It's a long story. But he's got nowhere else to stay."

"Whenever dad decides to come home, we'll talk to him," Sam said exasperatedly.

"Yeah, I know, he's never home anymore. Should we call him?"

"I tried when I woke up. Went straight to voicemail."

"Of course," Dean muttered. "Well, are you sure you don't wanna come?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Don't go to sleep after sunset, alright? I should be home before then though."

"Take your time. I'll be fine, Dean."

Dean couldn't be sure, but he thought Sam was just trying to put a brave face on to hide how truly petrified he was about the whole situation. Dean knew, however, that if the roles were reversed, Sam would let Dean do his tough-man act in peace, so Dean thought maybe he could do the same.

"Okay then. See you later."


	12. Chapter 12

Castiel was waiting in Dean's room for him to get back from checking on Sam. He wasn't really sure what was happening with Dean's brother, but it seemed it had something to do with him sleeping. Maybe it was his health.

Castiel checked his cell phone, which he hadn't bothered with since the night before. He had five texts from Gabriel.

Last night…

Gabriel: dude, where'd you go?

Gabriel: hey, am I giving you a ride home or not?

Gabriel: You better be at Dean's or I'll kill you

And then this morning…

Gabriel: Why aren't you home? Someone told me you left before the party started, so you weren't drunk, so that can't be your excuse. We were gonna talk to Uncle Michael!

Gabriel: Castiel, come on. You don't need to stay away like this. Come home.

Castiel sighed and put his phone away. At this point, the last place he wanted to be was with his family, so he chose to ignore the texts. If Gabriel was really concerned, he would call.

While he waited for Dean to come back, he sat on the bed, glancing around the room, until he saw something in the corner. He stood and walked over, realizing it was what it looked like. It was a guitar. He pulled it out. It was an acoustic guitar with dark red wood and gold accents. It was beautiful. It was also covered in dust, like it hadn't been used in a while. Just then, Dean opened the door behind him.

"What're you doing with that?" Dean asked.

"You play guitar?"

Dean shrugged. "I tried to learn over the summer. I kind of gave up. I wasn't that good."

"Do you remember any songs?"

Dean sighed, sitting on the bed. "Yeah, kinda. You're not going to make me play, are you?"

Part of Castiel wanted to make him, but he couldn't bring himself to force anyone to do anything. "No," Castiel muttered, setting the guitar back down. "So what's this place we're going to? Cool Shots, you called it?"

"It's like a joint bar and arcade place. I play pool there sometimes in the underage section."

"Okay, let's go," Castiel said.

Dean just continued to sit on the bed, looking at his lap. Then he stood, went past Castiel, and picked up the guitar.

"You don't have to," Castiel said.

Dean looked over to Castiel with a weird smile, a look on his face that it took Castiel a moment to recognize.

Affection. Adoration. Castiel had never been looked at like that, like he was the only person that someone wanted around—or even like he was someone that mattered at all.

"I know I don't. But you want me to, so I will," Dean replied.

Castiel smiled a little as Dean sat down, situating the guitar on his lap.

Dean took a deep breath and looked up. "This song is called _Angeles_," he said, before he started to strum. The song was slow and he played it with his fingers instead of with a pick.

Then, to Castiel's surprise, Dean started to sing along to it. The voice was amazing, but sounded so different from the way Dean talked. Castiel sat down, watching Dean as he went through the song. Watching Dean was kind of fascinating, because he looked so peaceful, maybe like his mind was somewhere else entirely.

"_So glad to meet you, Angeles_," the song ended. Dean strummed for a little longer, and then stopped. Then he looked up at Castiel through his lashes, as if he thought Castiel might tease him.

Castiel came and sat next to Dean. "Did you say that you weren't that good?" Cas asked.

"Well… yeah," Dean said nervously.

"And I used to think you were full of yourself," Castiel muttered. "Dean, you are a surprising person."

"You aren't saying whether you liked it or not."

Castiel smiled and leaned over and kissed Dean on the cheek, letting his chin linger on Dean's shoulder. "I liked it," he replied.

Dean turned, his cheeks red and his face so close that Castiel was stuck looking in his green eyes.

"You know, Dean, I've never seen you blush."

"Shut up," Dean muttered, moving his face the extra few inches it took to reach Castiel's lips.

It lingered for a moment, but then Castiel smiled and Dean opened his eyes, backing up an inch. "What?" he asked with a smile.

"I'm just happy," Castiel said. And it was true. He wasn't smiling for any reason at all, other than that he was just really content. He got kicked out of his house and Dean and Castiel were going to get hell at school on Monday and Castiel just didn't care.

Dean grinned. "So am I," he responded, landing a peck on Castiel's lips before standing. "So, to Cool Shots?"

"Yeah, sure," Castiel said.

* * *

Dean and Castiel hung at Cool Shots and Dean hustled guys at pool for a few hours while Castiel watched and tried not to laugh. Then, after a bit, he looked over at Castiel and frowned.

"I'm ignoring you," Dean said. "Sorry."

"Hey, no, it's okay," Castiel said. "It's fun to watch. You're good at pretending to be lame."

Dean smiled. "Lots of practice. But why don't you play?"

Castiel was just going to refuse, but then he got a brilliant idea. The fact that he thought of it proved he had been spending too much time with Dean. "I don't know how," Castiel said.

"It's okay, I'll teach you," Dean replied.

Dean started to teach Castiel how to play. Then, as Castiel expected, one of the guys Dean had been hustling came up.

"Yeah, you're real bad," the guy muttered. He was about the same height as Dean, but a little bulkier. "You cheated me."

Dean's eyes widened dramatically. "_Me_? No, I don't cheat."

"I want my money back!"

"Play me for it then," Dean replied.

"You already beat me at it, what's the point?" Then he looked at Castiel and smiled. "But I'll play _him_ for it."

"I don't think that's—"

"No, I'll play him for it!"

He sighed. "I only just started teaching him, man."

"Seems fair," the guy said.

"You don't have to play, Cas," Dean said.

"Hey, _Cas_, talk for yourself," the other guy said. "Tell your boyfriend to shut up."

Castiel ignored the second part of the sentence, but Dean moved forward as if he might start a fight with him. He turned to Dean. "Hey, stop it," Castiel muttered. Dean glared for a moment, but then took a deep breath.

"It's your choice," Dean said.

Castiel paused for a long moment, and then nodded. "Okay. I'll play you for it. But if I win, you match the amount Dean already has."

The guy chuckled. "Yeah, sure, whatever."

So the game started and Castiel had to try to keep from smiling. He started, getting a solid in with the first shot.

"Wow, that was good, Cas," Dean said with pride.

Castiel put on his best surprised face. "Wow," he muttered.

Castiel played against the other guy, whose scowl deepened throughout the game, all the way up until Castiel called the eight ball. "That corner," Castiel said, pointing to the far left from where he was. Then he hit and the shot was perfect.

He looked over to the other guy, who looked a little like he got hit over the head with something. "Dean, what'd you already get from him?" Castiel asked, looking back at him.

Dean's eyes were about as wide as the other guy's. "A hundred."

"So that'll be a hundred bucks, sir," he said. The guy was so shocked that he forked it over without a word. "Beginner's luck," Castiel added. "Come on Dean, let's go somewhere else."

Dean nodded and followed as Castiel led the two of them out of the bar. They got in the car and Dean turned to Castiel, who was trying really hard not to grin now, just looking at Dean innocently.

"You little liar!" Dean finally accused with a smile. "You cheated him."

"_Me_? I don't cheat," Castiel replied, finally let his smile show.

Dean started to crack up, and then started driving, though Castiel didn't know where he was driving to. "Where'd you learn to play like that?" Dean finally asked when he had finished chuckling.

"My Uncle Michael. It was the only fun thing he ever did."

"He really does sound like a drag," Dean said.

"You have no idea."

* * *

Dean parked in an unfamiliar part of town. In fact, it didn't really seem like they were in town at all. There was mostly just trees.

"Where are we?" Castiel asked. Dean didn't respond. He just went to the other side and opened Castiel's door. Castiel came out of the car. "Thank you," he said, and Dean smiled and rolled his eyes at Castiel's display of manners. Then Dean took his hand and started dragging him through the trees. Castiel was chuckling the whole time, though he wasn't sure why.

Then, the trees ended and Castiel realized why they had come over here. Where the trees ended, there was a small area of grass and then it fell off into a cliff. It was a little one, ten or fifteen feet, but past that there were more trees with a river flowing in between. Castiel hadn't thought that they were at Cool Shots that long, but the sun was already starting to set.

"Wait here," Dean said. Castiel was about to ask where he was going, but Dean was already gone before he could ask.

Dean came back a moment later with a backpack, and then pulled out a green blanket and laid it down. Castiel laughed.

"A picnic?" Castiel giggled. "I didn't take you as the romantic type."

"Well… truthfully, Sam did it for Jess a few months ago. I kind of copied him."

"That makes more sense," Castiel replied, sitting down on the blanket.

"Hey!" Dean laughed, "When did you get all rude?"

"I've been talking to you constantly for a week. I suppose it's got to have an effect on me."

Dean smiled and took out food… cold burgers.

"Burgers," Castiel said with a smile. "I should have guessed."

"It's the best I could do."

Castiel leaned over and kissed him. "It's perfect."

Dean smiled and they sat, watching the sun set.

Dean chuckled after a while, when the sky was striped with orange and pink, starkly contrasting with the darkening blue above it.

"You don't know what's going on with me right now, and with Sam—and I'd tell you if I could, but it's all really confusing and I don't really get it—but it's really scary. Honestly, I've been freaking out ever since I figured it all out. But still, with you, I feel okay. Like maybe it'll be alright, as long as you're still here."

Castiel smiled, leaning into Dean. "I'm not planning on leaving, Dean."

"Good."


	13. Chapter 13

Dean would have liked to stay out with Cas longer, but once it had gotten dark, he knew he should go back to check on Sammy. So they walked back through the woods hand in hand.

Dean was getting to the point that he refused to let go of Cas. It felt kind of ridiculous, but Cas was now his rock and he thought that if he let go, he would float away from the world of sanity all together. Even the night sky, which darkened quickly and had no stars, felt foreboding… like something really, really terrible was about to happen.

In fact, throughout the whole drive, he was squeezing the life out of Cas' hand and by the time he got home, he was convinced something had gone horribly wrong while he was out.

Because of this, it almost was more ominous that Sam was completely fine, sitting in his room and on his computer, like always.

"Hey Sam," Dean said as he opened the door.

He turned. "Oh, hey," he replied. "How was Cool Shots?"

"Good. I got two hundred dollars."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Hustling again?"

He shrugged. "Well, I guess I should give half of it to Cas."

"_Cas_ was hustling people too?"

Dean smiled. "He's a surprising guy."

"So I assume you came home to check on me. Honestly though, I'm good." Dean nodded. "In fact, I've kinda been working on something today."

"Have you?"

"Yeah. You're going to think I am crazy."

"At this point, nothing's crazy anymore," Dean muttered.

"You say that now…" Sam muttered, but he still stood up and walked over to Dean. "So, look up in that corner. Do you see anything?"

Dean squinted at the corner. "Um… well, it's kind of dark…"

"Exactly," he said. "I kind of installed a night vision camera."

"What?"

"Hear me out. I'm having those weird dreams, but only at night. And dad's on a site about demons."

"Which means he's paranoid. Sam, demons aren't real," Dean said urgently, knowing that he was half just trying to convince himself.

"I know, I know, it seems stupid. But you can't pretend that you haven't been freaking out, thinking there's something… I dunno, _weird_ going on. So I put up this camera so that we can look at it on high speed tomorrow and realize that there's nothing there."

Dean made a face of approval. "Actually, that's not a terrible idea. I'd certainly feel better."

"Exactly. And then I also have a tape recorder that I want you to put next to your baby monitor."

"Why?"

"Well, I was looking at that weird site. It said that—well, things like demons and stuff—emit EMF."

"Which _is_…"

"Electromagnetic Fields. Basically, they'll mess with the technology in the area. Sometimes speakers catch noises made by the creatures that can be translated by computer programs. I downloaded one today."

"You've been busy," Dean muttered, "Especially considering that most of the information you're getting is probably horse crap."

"Yeah, I know, but it's worth a try, isn't it? Dad isn't here still, so we can't talk to him. So now we can try to answer the question ourselves and if there's nothing, we can go back to thinking they're normal dreams." He didn't mention the alternative.

"I _would_ like some proof, I guess…" Dean said. "I mean, that everything's normal and that we're over-thinking it."

"Yeah," Sam said.

"So, time for movies?"

"No, Dean," Sam said. "The point of this is to figure out what's happening around me while the dreams are happening. That means I need to sleep."

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder. "No fucking way."

"I'm not a kid, Dean. You can't tell me what to do."

"Yeah, actually, you _are,_ Sam! You're fifteen! And while dad is gone, I'm the one who's looking after you so I can damn well tell you what to do."

"Dean, we have to do this. There's no other way to figure out the truth. Okay?"

Dean shook his head. "You can't go through that again."

"Dean, listen—"

"No, _you_ listen!" he barked. "You didn't see yourself last night, _I_ did. And Sammy, it was bad! You were falling the fuck apart! You can't go through that anymore! Nobody can handle shit like that every night."

Sam's face softened. "I know. I don't want to either. But we _have_ to, Dean. We need answers."

"Why isn't dad here?" Dean muttered exasperatedly. It was dad's job to handle all this, not Dean's. He didn't know whether to let Sam do this or not.

Sam chuckled darkly. "I know. He _should_ be here. But he isn't. So let me do this, Dean. You're always the one willing to sacrifice yourself for me… so let me do this, for both our sakes. For a little peace of mind."

Dean glared at Sam, wanting so badly not to let him.

But Sam was right. They couldn't keep being afraid there was something out there, having no idea if their assumptions were right or wrong. They needed answers.

"Okay, Sammy. Fine. But if I hear _anything_ on that monitor, I'm coming in, you hear?"

"Please do," Sam replied. Dean realized he looked pale.

"Are you sure about this?"

Sam took a deep breath, and then nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure."

* * *

Trying to fall asleep was agonizing. He thought it would be easier with Castiel next to him, except he knew there was something wrong, which was making him tense and nervous like Dean. They were laying silently in the dark.

"Dean, will you please tell me what's going on?" Cas asked.

Dean bit his lip. What could he tell Cas without sounding crazy? "Well, some fucked up shit, that's for sure."

"Okay…"

Dean sighed. "Well, Sam's been having these nightmares for a while now. They really scare him, and it's making it so he can't sleep at night. But… the thing is, there's something weird about them. Sam seems to think that they're… well, like premonitions or something. Some are of the past, others are the future. And then we saw something my dad posted on the internet that shows he's thinking the same thing. And if what Sam is seeing in his head is true, then some really bad things are going to happen to us. Already _did_ happen to us." Dean paused for Castiel to respond, but he was agonizingly silent. "You think I'm crazy, don't you."

Cas chuckled. "No. Not at all. You think _that's_ weird? You haven't heard enough about my family."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how my uncle is really obsessed with my not-so-present father?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he acts like the guy is God." He paused, but Dean didn't get it. "I don't mean metaphorically. Like, him being my uncle would make my dad his brother, but he calls my dad _his_ father too. Like, he really thinks that my dad _is_ God. The Lord Above. The Almighty."

"He honestly thinks that?"

"I didn't used to think so, but now… You remember how I told you that I'm named after an angel?"

"Yeah."

"Well, so is the rest of my family. My brothers, Gabriel and Raphael, and then my uncle Michael. That makes the three archangels from the Bible. Then, Uncle Michael has this estranged brother he never mentions the name of… but only one archangel is missing… Lucifer. An estranged brother never brought up, one that apparently committed 'the mightiest of sins'? Sounds like Satan to me."

"So you're saying your family… is angels?"

"Well, I don't know, it sounds stupid. But I just get this weird feeling sometimes… oh, never mind, I don't know. The point is, you aren't crazy. Maybe all these things from fairytales… maybe they aren't as fake as we imagine."

"Like there's actually fairies telling the stories?" Dean suggested with a little smile.

"Maybe," Castiel replied.

"Well, I hope not. Life is weird enough without monsters in it. Or fairies or anything like that."

"Yeah, I agree." Cas snuggled closer to Dean, thankfully relaxing a bit. "It'll be okay," Cas said.

Dean smiled at Castiel being the one comforting Dean. Oh, how things had changed in a week. But still, it helped, and Dean was able to relax to the point that he could at least think about sleep.

* * *

Dean was groggily awoken by the noise. At first, he wasn't really even sure what it was. He looked over to the clock. 2:30AM. He grumbled, searching the room for what the noise was. It was like a weird crackling. He didn't really recognize it as anything. Then he shot up, not thinking about the fact that he was disturbing Cas, and stared at the baby monitor. It was making the noise. Cas was looking at it too.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered.

"That's coming… from Sam's room?" Cas asked.

Dean remembered about the E-M-whatevers that messed with technology and jumped out of bed. "Sammy!" he bellowed, running out of the room and down the hall to Sam's room. He burst in through the door and all he saw was Sam, tossing and turning in his bed with a pained look on his face.

"No, no, Jess," he kept muttering. Dean was about to wake him, but he got caught up in listening to what Sam was saying. "I should've known… I was having the dreams… It's my fault... I could've saved her… We have to find the thing that killed mom and Jess… have to find it…"

Dean was breathing hard, listening to the words. He remembered why he had come in at all and went over to Sam, trying to shake him awake. His eyes were still shut tight.

"We'll kill it, Dean," Sam said. At first he thought Sam had woken up, but he was still muttering in his sleep. He talked to Dean in his sleep? "It killed mom, and Jess, and we'll kill it," Sam was still muttering. "Dad's tracking it. We'll find dad and then we'll do it. I have to kill it."

"Sam!" Dean yelled, shaking harder.

Sam's eyes flew open and he shot up, breathing hard. He was so covered in sweat it seemed like he had gotten out of the shower. He was shaking, but was somehow keeping from crying.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Hey, wait a second, try to breathe first."

"Did you see something? We can't wait, what if something was here?"

"If anything was here, it's gone now," Dean said. "It won't hurt anything to calm down first."

Sam nodded and they took ten minutes to get him almost back to kind of normal. He still looked like a deer in the headlights that was about to shit itself, but Sam kept asking what happened, so finally, Dean obliged.

"There was a noise, on the monitor. It woke me up. It was really weird. So I came in."

"What was it? Was something here?"

Dean took a deep breath, looking over to the camera. "Only one way to find out."


	14. Chapter 14

Sam set up the camera so they could play the footage while Dean went back to his room to grab the recorder that was in front of the baby monitor. Cas was awake too, hanging out awkwardly in the hallway. Once he got the video ready, he went out to see Cas. He looked confused and worried, and maybe scared. Dean had at least told him something then.

"Hey, you can come into my room," Sam said. "Just be prepared for some weird stuff."

"I've seen weird before, trust me," Castiel replied, then followed Sam into his bedroom. Sam tried to understand what Cas meant by this comment, but decided he had no idea and went back to focusing on the task at hand.

Dean came back into the room with the recorder and sat down. The three boys silently looked at each other, not wanting to start the video.

Then Dean said, "Do it."

Sam turned to his laptop, hesitated, and then pushed play. They started from the beginning, fast forwarding until there was something to see—_not that there would be anything to see at all_, Sam kept trying to insist to himself.

Just as he was sitting there thinking that to himself, he saw something. He paused the video, went back a few seconds, and then pressed play at 1.5 times normal time, so they could still see it but it wasn't agonizingly slow.

He looked over to Dean, who had already been looking at him with his eyes wide. They glanced back at the video. Suddenly, a figure appeared in the video. In the sea of green, it was a silhouette of deep black. It appeared in the middle of the room, and then walked over to Sam's bed. It stood over him, but from the angle that Sam put the camera, they still couldn't tell what he was doing. Then the figure walked across the room… and stood right in front of the camera. As if it were staring at it. Not that they could see its face, even though they should have been able to. Sam paused it. He leaned closer to the screen then, because once he paused it, they could see two features: bright irises, looking white in the night vision camera, and the teeth in a wide grin.

If he didn't know any better, he'd think someone was playing a trick on him.

It was silent for an extremely long time as they stared at the thing in the frozen video.

"What in hell is that thing?" Sam finally asked.

"That fucking thing was touching you," Dean said. "That's so wrong."

"We don't know that."

"Why else would it be leaning over you?"

"Well, give me the recorder. I'll hook it up to the program so we can listen to the sounds in the monitor and know what they said."

"I don't know if I want to anymore," Dean said.

"I _know_ I don't want to," Sam said.

"But you're curious too?" Castiel asked.

They both looked at him. "Yeah," Dean said, "for some reason."

Sam had it set up for the time that the man appeared in his room, which was about midnight. He'd been in there for a long time, Sam realized. While watching the video, he had been so sickly enthralled that he didn't notice time passing.

"You ready?" Sam asked.

The other two boys looked at him and nodded. They played the recording. First there was nothing, but then an odd crackling noise started. It took a moment, but then some of the sound seemed to be words…

And then the words were discernible. Sam felt like he couldn't breathe.

"_Sammy_… _Sammy_… _Be_ _my_ _soldier, Sammy_…"

It kept repeating the same thing over and over and finally Sam had to stop it.

"This is so wrong," Sam said.

"We need to see if the message changes," Dean said. "If it's freaking you out, Cas and I can listen."

"No," Sam said. "I can do this."

He pushed play again. They sat in awkward silence as it kept repeating the same thing. What the hell was this thing and what did it want with Sam?

Then, while still being able to hear the creepy whispering of Sam's name, Sam could be heard talking in his sleep, things about saving Jess and killing the thing that killed their mom.

_So dream-Sam knows what's going on, but I don't_, Sam thought in exasperation.

Then Dean could be heard, louder than the other two voices. "What the hell?"

Then Cas. "That's coming… from Sam's room?"

There was a short silence before Dean yelled, "Sammy!" Then, just as the door slammed, the crackling vanished in the recording and all that could be heard was Sam talking.

"He was there barely a second before I got here," Dean said blankly.

"Wow," Castiel muttered.

The recording was still playing, Dean trying to wake Sam up.

And then another voice started. It was kind of high pitched, but in a menacing sort of way. Almost like it thought everything it said was terribly clever, even when everyone else was getting goose bumps from it.

"_It was so clever of you, setting up this recording. I like that. I mean, it's why you're my favorite. But, anyway, you thought you could outsmart me with the monitors and the camera, but I'm a little out of your league in that respect. As I speak, you and your brother are sitting in the other room, discussing that I'm not there." Dean and Sam met eyes, both seeming to be holding their breath. "But, you see, I want you to see me. I want you to find your destiny. John thought he could save you boys from all this, thought he could ignore it. But you can't hide from your fate, Winchesters. I need you out in the field, out Hunting_."

They were still looking at each other, so Dean mouthed, "Hunting?" Sam shrugged.

"_So come and find me, boys. I'm the one who killed your mother. Avenge her, Sam_."

The silence was deeper this time. Neither of them really seemed to know what to say.

"He killed mom," Dean finally said. Sam nodded. They looked up to Cas, but he was looking at the door. They looked over.

John Winchester was standing there.

* * *

Dad asked Castiel politely to go downstairs so the three of them could have a talk. Cas nodded quickly and left the room. Their dad sat down on Sam's bed, looking at his boys.

"I should have known I couldn't hide this from you," he said.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dean muttered. "Were you planning on just being gone all the time so we couldn't ask?"

"I didn't know you had any idea, honestly I didn't."

"You didn't know about Sam's dreams?"

John looked confused. "What dreams?"

"We'll get to that later," Sam said, "but where have you been?"

"Doing the same thing as you boys, I guess. Trying to get some answers. Sammy's smarter than me, so he was able to do it on his own, but I looked for Hunters." There was that word again. Hunter. What did it mean? "I've been in South Dakota for the past few days. Met a guy named Bobby Singer, talked to him about what's been going on."

"And it's a demon that killed mom?" Dean asked.

John smirked. "You boys are more resourceful than I give you credit for. Yeah, that's what it looks like."

"And Hunters," Sam finally said, "Are people that hunt demons?"

"Hunt all those types of things. Ghosts. Monsters. Lots of bad things."

"You always knew it was something like this, didn't you?" Sam asked. "You saw mom, on the ceiling."

"Now wait a second," John said, "why do you two know so much?"

"Sam's been having dreams. Of mom's death." Dean didn't mention the other dreams, which Sam was thankful for. He didn't want to tell his dad about that, not yet. "We think the demon was giving them to him. He's trying to lure us to want to kill it."

Dad was quiet for a moment, and then nodded. "Boys, I've been needing to tell you something. I was just… well, I was postponing it. See, I've been gone a lot because I needed information, needed to learn the skills of the trade. But now, I need to go find this thing. I've waited too long already."

"Find it… like, go hunt it yourself? How long would that take?"

John got quiet again. "Hunting a demon can take years, Sammy." His sons stared at him with little comprehension. "I have to do this. This thing—all these monsters—they're evil. I need to do this."

"So…" Dean said, "This means you would leave. And never come back." He said it more bluntly than Sam would've, but it was about what he was thinking.

"Once you start this, according to the hunters I've talked to, you have to keep going. So yes. And I want you boys to come with me."

"Come with you?" Sam squeaked.

"I'm not letting these things get anywhere near my family again, not unless you guys can defend yourselves. You can come and learn to fight them and we can rid the planet of all of it."

Sam took a deep breath. "So we would just put everything down?" Sam asked, glancing at Dean. He was staring at the wall and Sam saw what he was thinking: _What about Cas_? "Our friends, school, everything?"

"Yes," John said, not seeming at all remorseful about that fact. In fact, their dad seemed different than he always had been. Harder, like a part of him was gone. "This is a war. This demon's strike… it's made us part of that war. We're soldiers now. We can't abandon the front line." Suddenly dad's military background shined through like it never had. Sam wasn't sure he liked it.

Finally, Dean nodded. "You're right," he said. "We have to go. Because it killed mom." He looked over to Sam, conveying the rest of his sentence: _And it will kill others too_.

"Pack up. We leave tomorrow morning."


	15. Chapter 15

Dean was feeling dizzy. Everything was changing so fast. Suddenly dad was acting like a drill sergeant, to the point that Dean had started calling him "sir". They were leaving, going to Bobby Singer's to get weapons and learn to fight.

And they were leaving everything behind.

Dean found Castiel sitting on the couch, looking at his lap. Dean stopped walking, just to look at him.

Leaving _everything_ behind.

Castiel hadn't been in Dean's life long, but Dean already felt attached to him. He didn't want to let him go. But he saw the look on dad's face and he heard the thing on the recording admit to killing mom. Dean's life was changing and he wasn't going to be able to stop it. So he would have to just deal with it instead.

He came down and tried to give Cas a smile, but it made his chest hurt. Castiel looked like he knew something was up.

"Hey, Cas, let's go outside," he said.

It was four in the morning, but still Dean wasn't tired. Cas didn't seem to be either.

"You're leaving," Castiel said.

Dean glanced over at him. "Were you listening?"

"You weren't exactly whispering."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, we're leaving."

"To hunt a demon."

"Yeah, I guess so." Dean reached for Cas' hand without actually telling himself to and Cas took it.

They were quiet for a long time, glancing at each other but not being able to hold the gaze. "You're really never going to come back, are you?"

Dean didn't pretend to know what was going on completely, but some things just felt like instinct. "No. I don't think so."

"And you won't have any way to contact anyone?"

Dean nodded, finally looking over to Cas. Dean felt a little numb, like he was trying to ignore the big implications of the conversation, but Cas didn't look numb at all. Dean could see the hurt in his eyes and was trying so hard to ignore it.

"Destinies," Cas finally said.

"Huh?"

"I have one too. I know I do. It lined up with yours in some way… but maybe this is the end of that."

Cas' words were trying to force past Dean's walls, the ones that had suddenly been put up over his emotions. It was working, to a point, but Dean still felt far off, like he was already not a part of this life anymore.

"I'm going to miss you," he said. Those words, however, hit Dean.

"Yeah, I'll miss you too," he responded, swallowing away the tightness in his throat.

Cas looked down at his hands, then just at one. Then he started messing with his ring. He always wore the thing. It was simple silver.

"Gabriel gave this to me a while back. It opens beer bottles. He thought it was a funny joke." He took the thing off. "But I want you to have it. To remember me by. At least until we see each other again."

Dean sighed. "I don't think we will."

"Maybe not. But I have a weird feeling…"

"What, that now that there are actually demons, you might actually be an angel?" Dean meant it to be a joke, but it didn't sound as crazy out loud.

"I doubt it. But you never know. And if I am… then I can watch over you."

That got Dean. He put his arms around Cas tightly and they stood like that for a long time.

* * *

John didn't even ask why Castiel was still there. He didn't seem to care about anything but getting ready to go. Part of Dean wanted to postpone it, but then the other part just wanted to get out already. The only thing he actually thought he'd miss was Cas. He'd always thought he didn't need high school. This meant he wasn't going to end up finishing. He didn't mind leaving all his things behind other than the necessities. Well, the necessities and Baby, her too. Dad said they were taking the Impala, which Dean was thankful for.

Well, and Cas' ring. He was wearing that too.

Finally, he was done packing. All the things were in the trunk—Dean ignored the fact that there were several weapons now strewn back there.

Then he went back inside, where Castiel was still sitting on the couch.

"Where are you going to go?" Dean finally asked.

"Back home. I have to apologize to Uncle Michael."

Dean nodded. He wanted to tell Cas that he didn't like the idea of going back to his Uncle's… but after today, Cas wouldn't be a part of his life at all.

Dean had been trying to avoid thinking too much about what was happening, but now that dad was getting in the car, he couldn't avoid it anymore.

Sam walked through the front room, looking back at everything. Then he met eyes with Dean.

"I won't be able to stall for long," Sam said, and then he walked outside.

Dean looked back over to Cas.

"So this is it," he said.

Dean nodded. "I won't forget you."

Cas smiled sadly. "I won't either."

Dean leaned forward, planted a kiss on Cas' lips, then turned and went for the door. He looked back… and Cas was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

Castiel had been standing in Dean's living room trying not to cry. And now he was in a different room, clean and white with a desk in the middle. Castiel was confused, but then he saw himself in a mirror in the corner. He came forward.

He was older. He looked a lot older, actually, at least ten or fifteen years. He had bags under his eyes and instead of a tee shirt and jeans under his trench coat, there was a dress shirt, a tie, and trousers. He looked around the room and saw… Aunt Naomi.

"Aunt—"

Then everything came back to Castiel. He was not a teenager. He was not even human. He was an angel of the Lord. Gabriel and Raphael were dead and Michael might as well have been. He met Dean Winchester a few years back, when he pulled him out of Hell. Since then, he kind of abandoned the work of heaven, working more often for the Winchesters than for their completely non-present Father. Dean and Castiel had never gone to high school together.

Or at least, he had thought so.

"Castiel," Naomi said.

"What was all that?' Castiel asked.

"A point being proven," she said. "I see much, Castiel. I have seen your heart, and what it pines for. Dean Winchester was your mission, but now you have fallen too deeply into it. He is not what our Father wants for you. You keep wondering that if things were different, if you and Dean had met earlier, if you weren't an angel… that maybe what you want could happen. I showed you this so you know that it would never be. No matter how you and Dean met, no matter how much either of you want this… your destinies will forever keep you apart. So you must forget him."

"You're saying that was all fake?"

"Of course."

Castiel blinked a few times. But it had felt so real. "What about the ring?" he asked. "Dean wore that same ring when I met him when he got out of hell, that ring that Gabriel had given to me in the other universe."

Naomi was quiet for a moment. "I fabricated that."

Castiel looked down at his hands, looking at the finger the ring used to be on. Naomi had made all of that up?

He wasn't so sure.

"That was real," he said. "That was our true past. Someone made us forget it, but you showed it to me to prove a point."

"That's not true, Castiel. You're reaching for something to make this better for you."

But he knew. He didn't care what Naomi said. Somehow, in some alternate universe or something, all of that had really happened. Dean and Cas fell for each other. And for a perfect day or two, it actually worked.

But Naomi was right, in a way. They could never truly be together. Castiel was an angel and Dean was a hunter and nothing was going to change that.

Castiel stood in silence for a long time. He would at least have that small memory—or dream or whatever it was—to hold on to.

"Now you can focus on what matters," Naomi said. "As always, you will not remember that this happened." Then Castiel vanished.

* * *

Castiel found himself sitting in the room with Dean and Sam. They were talking about something, probably Crowley. Castiel had thought he was paying attention, but somehow he felt off. There was this emptiness in his chest, like some hope that he had been holding had been extinguished.

He looked over at Dean. He looked at his hand. He used to wear a ring, Cas remembered. He wasn't sure why it mattered to him, but the ring was gone now.

And without any warning, one tear fell down Castiel's face. Neither of the boys even noticed.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading to the end! I want to especially thank people who have already left reviews. **

**Sorry if you were expecting a happy ending... but come on, Supernatural never gets happy endings.**

**Now, please please please please please PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE leave a review. Please. And thank you.**


End file.
